Once Upon a Chibi
by Candyland
Summary: [COMPLETE] Goten makes a wish to the Eternal Dragon to try and "help" his older brother. Now Gohan has to spend the next four months living with the consequences of his little brother's good intentions. Let the insanity begin!
1. Goten Makes a Wish

AN: I'm back!! Brand new story! Kudos to Cat for the inspiration. I was running kinda dry on ideas, so this was very welcome.

This story is intended as kind of a quasi-follow-up to "The Riddle," but you really don't need to read that unless you want to. This stands plenty fine on its own. I hope that at the very least you find it somewhat amusing. At least. And now, on with the story! Mesa no own DBZ.

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Chapter One—Goten Makes a Wish

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Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee

And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me.

-"Forgive, O Lord," by Robert Frost

Goten pushed as hard as he could against the rock, and it finally gave way. The enormous boulder rolled a few inches and tumbled down the craggy side of the steep hill it had been sitting on the top of. The chibi peered into the newly-uncovered crevice, and a huge smile broke on his face.

"Gotcha!" he said triumphantly, speaking to the baseball-sized orb that had been hiding under the boulder. One small hand reached in and plucked the ball from the dirt. He lovingly brushed the dirt away and counted the stars. "One…two…three…four…five!"

Clutching the five-star Dragonball tightly in both of his hands, Son Goten took off into the air, flying towards his house. This was the last one. Now he could make his wish. He was so excited! This was going to be great!

It didn't take him a terribly long time to reach his home. He touched down in the large grassy area in front of the house and looked around. Not that anyone would be there, anyway. His mother had gone off to the city to run some errands, and Gohan was, of course, at school. There was no one around to stop one crafty little chibi from summoning the Eternal Dragon and making a very important wish.

Goten walked into the house and peered around again, just to make sure. Seeing and sensing no one, he ran up to his room and closed the door. There really wasn't a reason for him to be so secretive, since there wasn't anybody home. But he felt better knowing that just in case someone did happen to enter his house, he was hidden.

The chibi set the precious Dragonball on the bed and then dropped to the floor. Laying on his stomach, he dug around under the bed for a moment until his fingers finally closed around the thing he'd been searching so carefully for.

"Yes!" he cheered, pulling out a plain backpack, made of simple black canvas. The bag itself was fairly nondescript, but there was something inside that had the bag about half full.

Humming to himself, Goten unzipped the biggest pocket of the backpack and dropped the last Dragonball inside; it clinked loudly against the other objects within the bag. "Shh!" he whispered to the inanimate objects, slinging the bag onto his shoulders. Then he laughed and began singsonging, "Backpack, backpack," mimicking a tune from _Dora the Explorer._

"Goten?" a voice called from down the hall, echoing from somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchen. "Goten, where are you?"

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Uh-oh! Goten looked over his shoulder in a panic. _Mom's home! _His eyes tried to bore through the wooden door, but he quickly discovered that X-ray vision was not a standard part of a Saiyan's powers. Fortunately, better than average hearing was a part of the deal, and his sharp ears picked up the sound of his mother's assertive footsteps clicking towards his room.

"Goten?" she said again, this time from right outside the door.

The chibi made a split-second decision and dove out the window, landing on his stomach in the dirt. Just as he hit the ground, he heard the door to his room open. He waited, not moving until he heard her sigh, and the sound of retreating footsteps.

Breathing a sigh a relief, Goten crawled a few feet, then pushed himself up into a standing position and took off. He turned happy somersaults and did cartwheels in the air. At last he was free.

Before he knew it, he had arrived at the place he had selected as the spot for his wish. It was a clearing in the forest, far enough away that no one could interfere.

This was a very serious wish. Goten had been planning it for quite some time, and now he could finally carry through with his plan. This was the most excited he had been in ages. He was finally getting the chance to offer up some payback for all the wonderful things his brother had done for him in his life.

He opened the backpack and rather unceremoniously dumped the seven magical Dragonballs out on to the ground. They rolled around a little in the grass and clinked together. Goten tossed the bag off to the side and held out his hands over the glowing gems. "Hey, Mr. Dragon! Wake up!"

Above him, the sky darkened menacingly. The orbs exploded in golden light, and the light zipped into the sky like a shot fired from a flare gun. The beam twisted and bent until it finally took the form of and solidified into Shenron, the Eternal Dragon, looming across the sky.

"Whoa…" Goten whispered, his eyes wide in awe and wonder.

The dragon's eyes flashed a blood red. "YOU HAVE SUMMONED ME. I WILL GRANT YOU TWO WISHES. CHOOSE CAREFULLY," he boomed like thunder.

Goten blinked, then grinned. "Oh! Okay! I wish that my big brother was my age again, but I still want him to be smart and stuff, okay?"

Shenron growled, "ARE YOU SURE?"

"Yes!" Goten cried indignantly.

The Eternal Dragon's eyes began to glow with a fire from within, lighting them up; then they dimmed again. "IT HAS BEEN DONE!"

Goten grinned. Big brother was going to be so surprised!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"What the hell?" Sharpner yelped suddenly right in the middle of the teacher's lecture, catching the attention of everyone in the class. The blonde jumped to his feet and pointed a shaky finger towards the window. "What happened to the sky?"

Thirty teenage heads pivoted, and thirty pairs of teenage eyes stared out the window. Nearly all of the students followed Sharpner's example and leapt from their seats. In an explosion of sound, the students flew to one side of the room and crowded around the window, pushing and shoving to try and get a better view. Only Gohan and Videl remained in their seats, though their eyes followed everyone else to the window and the strange thing that was happening outside.

The sky had gone dark; the sun and clouds had vanished behind the blue-black blanket (AN: Oh, the joys of alliteration!) that had been draped across the firmament. Lightning seared across the heavens in bright golden branches.

"Gohan, what is that?" Videl asked in a loud whisper, certain that he would know. She was right.

"Someone summoned Shenron," he muttered softly in reply so that no one else would be able to hear him. Not that they could have heard much of anything over the din their classmates were making. "The Dragon's awake. Oh gods, what's the wish, and who's making it?"

*Gohan, did you get a load of this?* a voice growled in the teenager's mind.

*Yeah. Who is it?* Gohan sent back.

*I don't know,* Piccolo replied. *But he's close. I'm already on my way.*

*I'd go with, but I can't leave.*

"Don't worry. If anything happens, I'll let you know.*

*Sounds good…* Gohan's thought trailed off into a groan that was both mental and out loud. He felt eyes boring into him, but his head was suddenly throbbing too much to pay much, if any, attention. He pressed both hands to his temples in an attempt to stave off the pain, but it didn't work, and he groaned again. What was wrong?

As hi s whole body seemingly became paralyzed, stars danced in front of his eyes, and he couldn't sit upright any longer. Gohan fell forward onto his desk, letting the wave of numbness wash over him and drown him. He allowed himself to fade into darkness.

A minute later, Gohan snapped back to consciousness, still sprawled across his desk. Feeling had returned to his body, and the tiny lights had stopped dancing around before his eyes. His head still hurt a little, but the pain was deadening. He had the sense that he had only been out for a moment. How odd.

Shaking his head, he pushed himself back into a sitting position…and was startled when he actually drpped several inches to land in his seat. But now his desk was at his eye level. This was almost going beyond peculiar…

It was only then that he realized that everyone was staring at him, open mouthed and wide eyed. It was like they didn't know what to make of him, like a particularly interesting or disgusting specimen laid out on a dissecting table.

He blinked a few times. "What?" he asked in confusion, and was startled at the voice that came out of his mouth. Was that him? No way! His voice hadn't been able to reach that kind of octave for years!

Erasa, who had been physically crawling on top of people in an attempt to see the strange condition of the sky, was the only one with enough wit left to answer. "Who…are you?"

"Huh?" Gohan squeaked, suddenly aware of the fact that he felt very strange.

Outside, the sky returned to normal.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"YOUR FIRST WISH HAS BEEN GRANTED," Shenron thundered. "WHAT IS YOUR SECOND WISH?"

"Oh!" Goten said. "I forgot about the other wish. Hmm…I dunno. I don't have one."

"THEN I SHALL LEAVE," the Eternal Dragon boomed, then changed into the bright beams of light and vanished. The seven Dragonballs flew into the air and rocketed off in seven different directions, headed for every corner of the Earth.

"Bye!" Goten called cheerfully, waving at the vanished spheres of light. They looked kind of like that one time when he and Gohan had watched a meteor shower. It was so pretty.

"And what do you think you're doing?" a deep voice snarled angrily.

Before Goten could turn around or reply, someone or something grabbed the back of his orange gi and hoisted him off of his feet. Dangling by his collar, Goten spun around to find himself eye to eye with a very angry Namekian. "Oh…hey, Mr. Piccolo. What are you doing?"

"I believe I just asked you that question," Piccolo growled. "Why did you summon Shenron?"

"I had a wish to make," Goten replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And it was an important one, too—HEY!"

The chibi was cut off as Piccolo shot off into the air, pulling Goten by his collar behind him. A few minutes later, they landed outside the Son residence. Piccolo took care to make sure that he landed on the side of the house where there were no windows so that if he had to beat the child, ChiChi wouldn't be able to look outside and see it.

Once he had touched down, he looked around to make sure that the frying pan wielder was not ouside. No sign of her. Good. Now he could get it out of Goten.

But as Piccolo opened his mouth to get answers, a loud voice came from inside the house. "Piccolo! You'd better not hurt my baby!"

The Namekian's jaw stayed in its hanging position for a long moment, then he turned and looked at the child, who was still dangling by the back of his shirt from Piccolo's hand. Piccolo frowned. "How does she do that?"

"I dunno," Goten shrugged as much as his current position would allow him to.

"Okay, time for answers," Piccolo shook off his surprise at a mother's ESP and refocused on the mystery at hand. "What did you wish for?"

Goten's chin quivered. "I wished that Gohan was my age again. Oof!"

That last was the sound he made as Piccolo suddenly dropped him. "You did WHAT?!?"

"I did it for brother, so don't get mad at me!" Goten protested defiantly.

Piccolo stared at the chibi for a minute, then groaned and pushed off, hovering a few feet in the air. "When your brother gets home, and I assume he'll be home early if this wish worked, tell me to come see me. I have a feeling we'll have something to talk about." With that, Piccolo left.

No longer under any sort of threat from insane and powerful friends of his older siblings, Goten skipped into the house. "Mommy, can I have a snack?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"What do you mean, who am I?" Gohan demanded in his suddenly high pitched voice. Just hearing himself talk like that freaked him out.

"Well, I don't know what you're doing here. Are you in the wrong place?" Erasa asked.

"Erasa, what are you talking about?" he queried. At this point, he suddenly realized that his feet no longer touched the floor under his desk. His list of things that weren't quite right at the moment just kept getting longer and longer.

She looked stunned. "You know who I am?"

"Of course!" he replied in exasperation.

Behind him, he heard Videl making a few odd noises that sounded for all the world like she was being strangled. When he turned to look at her, he saw that her eyes were bugging out of her head.

"What?" he piped. Damn his voice! He'd already been through puberty! Why had it picked now to return to a lovely soprano pitch?

Videl was silent for a minute; then she leaned forward. "Gohan?"

"Who did you think I was?" he asked.

"Here," Erasa reached into her purse and pulled out a compact, the kind of thing that held makeup. She opened it and shoved it into his hands. "Take a look. You tell us."

Refraining from rolling his eyes, Gohan looked into the tiny mirror.

And his jaw fell off his face.

AN: Chapter One is done! Hehe…that rhymed! Okay, I'm just being stupid now. We're off on another one my odd little tales. Bon appetite, and feel free to journey back for the next installment, which will be up whenever I can get it written.


	2. What the HFIL?

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AN: Wow! Reviews! And all good ones, too! I LOVE YOU GUYS!!!!! *sigh* Just for you, I'm updating now. I hope this chapter measures up. This story might get a little silly, and it might get a little dramatic at times, but trust me—there will be some kind of plot to it! I don't own DBZ. Kay?

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Chapter Two—What the HFIL?!?

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Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee

And I'll forgive Thy big ones on me.

—"Forgive, O Lord" by Robert Frost

The face that stared back from the mirror was…different.

Instead of spikes, the dark hair was in, of all things, a mop top. The dark eyes looked bigger, mostly because they were in a smaller, rounder face instead of the thinner, adult face. And then he noticed that the hands holding the mirror were awfully small for an eighteen-year-old.

But the hair drew Gohan's attention the most. He hadn't had that awful haircut since he was…what, six or seven? And he was definitely a lot shorter.

Suddenly, the demi-Saiyan felt a terrible sense of impending doom uncoiling itself in the pit of his stomach, like a rattlesnake preparing to strike. Only one thought was running through his mind.

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What the HFIL happened to me?!?

"Aww…aren't you just the cutest thing?" one of the girls cheered from the front of the crowd. This was probably the only person in the whole school who was a bigger ditz than Erasa, and at the moment, it was showing. After all, how idiotic could a person be who would completely overlook the fact that a small child was now occupying the seat of the school's resident genius?

Several other girls shook off their shock and joined in the chorus of "awws" and "how adorables" that were becoming louder in the room. Most of the males just looked at each other, confused.

Gohan did about the only thing he could think of at that point. Slowly, he stood up on his chair (since that was the only way he could reach the top of his desk) and gathered his books into a neat pile. He then shoved that neat pile into his book bag and tried to sling the bag over his shoulder. Unfortunately, the strap was way too long for someone of his size at that moment, and he had to spend a few minutes improvising a way for him to carry the books without tripping over the strap and killing himself. Then he hopped down from the chair and headed down the stairs towards the front of the classroom, ignoring the crooning of the class' estrogen bearers.

The teacher, who was at the front of the room, watched the small child slowly descend the staircase, and didn't take his eyes from said chibi as the kid made his way up to the teacher's desk and stopped. "Mr. Rido, I don't think I'll be in class tomorrow, sir," the chibi said with all the politeness of someone far, far older.

Then the child walked out of the room, leaving a semi-chaotic scene behind him.

He walked down the hallway, past the few loiterers and skippers who were hanging out around the lockers. They gave him some very strange looks, but as with most of his classmates, he ignored them, and continued on his way to the stairs that led to the roof. Once there, he didn't leave immediately, but sat down on the knee-high concrete railing that encircled the entire edge of the roof.

Or at least it used to be knee-high. Now the stupid thing was nearly as tall as he was!

__

Okay, let's think, he thought to himself, putting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. It was then that he noticed that instead of his orange and black school ensemble, he was wearing the blue-purple gi and red wristbands Piccolo had given him so long ago. He didn't know why his clothes were different now, but then again, not much made sense at that point. _Sky goes dark, Shenron's been summoned, and all of a sudden, I'm a half pint again. Who made the wish, and why in the name of the gods did they make it? Wait…but I still have my mind. I know I'm eighteen, but my body seems to think otherwise at the moment. Good grief…_

He closed his eyes, thinking that maybe the answers would write themselves across the underside of his eyelids or something, and thus make themselves known to him. It didn't work, and he sighed. _Maybe it's a new enemy, and they just want me out of the way…that could be it. But if that's the case, then what the HFIL am I gonna do? I can't fight like this!_

The decision made itself, and he stood up. _I think I need to go see the guys. I'm not going to solve this little problem by myself._

Fortunately, he had learned to fly at an extremely young age, and it was second nature to him even now. He easily took flight and shot across the sky towards Mount Paoz and his home, not caring if anyone in the city below spotted him. If they did, they would probably attribute it to UFOs or Martians or a government conspiracy or something equally ridiculous.

Gohan had met a Martian once, and the experience had left him extremely disappointed. He'd been young, and he had walked away from the encounter with a very bad taste in his mouth. After all that fuss about the little green men, they turned out to be purple.

His speed at this size—since he didn't quite know how old he was—left a little to be desired, though, and it took him a bit longer than usual to get beyond the city limits and anywhere near his house. And the book bag wasn't making things any easier. Even though he had managed to knot the strap up in such a way that he could walk with it, it wasn't comfortable. The stupid thing probably weighed as much as he did, and that did _not_ make for easy flying conditions.

He was contemplating dropping it somewhere and coming back to retrieve it later (and trying to figure out if his mother would kill him for the offense against the Sacred Textbooks of Knowledge) when he saw a dot in the distance. Someone else was flying in the sky, just ahead of him.

A quick check proved it to be none other than Krillen.

"Hey!" Gohan called, flaring his ki to get his friend's attention. Granted, his ki level was sadly low when compared to his eighteen year old level.

But it was enough to get Krillen's attention. The short man stopped in the air and turned around, looking about in bewilderment. Finally, his eyes landed on Gohan, who was waving his arms around above his head. The chibi flew ahead to meet his friend.

"Hey, Krillen!" Gohan chimed enthusiastically, momentarily forgetting that he was not exactly…himself at the moment.

But he was instantly reminded when Krillen's brow furrowed in confusion. "Do I…know you? I mean, you look familiar and everything, but…I can't put a finger on it."

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Duh, Gohan mentally smacked himself upside the head.

"I remember the hair, but…oh, geez, who are you?" the short guy finally gave up trying to remember the elusive name.

"Krillen, I'm Gohan," the chibi pronounced.

For a second, no reaction registered itself on Krillen's face. Then the former monk reacted in a manner completely befitting his character. He went berserk.

"WHAT?!?" he screeched, flying around in little panicked circles. "HOW CAN YOU BE GOHAN?!? GOHAN'S EIGHTEEN! YOU'RE…NOT! YOU'RE A KID! GOHAN HASN'T BEEN THAT SIZE FOR YEARS!!"

He was finally and forcibly calmed down by Gohan's own patented prescription of a semi gentle blow to the head. The former monk took a deep breath, stared at the child for a minute, and then his eyes rolled back into his head and he fell out of the air.

It was very tempting to let him hit the ground and see how many pieces he ended up in, as payback for all the crap Krillen had been giving him about his ever closer friendship with Videl. But then again, it would cause a big scene if a strange looking man just fell out of the sky and landed in the middle of Rubix Street in Lower Satan City. Not to mention it would make an awful mess.

Gohan was pondering this when, out of nowhere, he heard his mother's voice. "Son Gohan, you'd better not let him hit the ground!"

The chibi looked around in confusion. "How does she do that?"

So he dove after his plummeting friend and caught him a few stories up. He hoisted the semi conscious man onto his shoulders and quickly flew out of the city limits, where he landed.

"Krillen, get a grip," he admonished.

The monk looked at the kid with wide eyes, and opened his mouth to ask the obvious question.

Gohan cut him off. "I have no idea. I was sitting in class, trying to stay awake while the teacher prattled on about things I learned at age five, when all of a sudden the sky goes dark and the class goes ballistic. I felt really weird for a minute, blacked out, and then the next thing I know, I'm a kid again. But I've still got my mind."

"An eighteen year old trapped in a six year old's body?" Krillen asked. "Is that it?"

"Pretty much," Gohan squeaked, still cursing that awful soprano voice.

"Wow…that really bites…" Krillen shook his head. "I was going to see who summoned Shenron and find out what the wish was." Realization dawned. "You don't think—"

"That's exactly what I think," Gohan nodded firmly. "And I want to know who did this to me! And whoever is responsible for this, I'm going to do something very, very not nice to them! I don't know exactly what just yet, but it'll be bad…"

"Huh. Well, first things first," Krillen stood up and dusted himself off. "Just so nobody else gets the shock I did, we'd better make sure everybody knows about your…ah…situation."

__

Nice way of putting it, Gohan thought gloomily. But he nodded, and they flew off into the air.

"Where to first?" Krillen asked.

Gohan thought for a minute. "Master Roshi's. I don't think I can explain this to my mom just yet! I'm still trying to explain it to myself."

Thus agreed, they swerved their course a little bit and ended up sailing in the air over a seemingly endless expanse of blue ocean.

Maybe it was his childhood persona taking over his eighteen year old mind, or maybe his mother had just made her nachos too spicy for him, but a little idea began wiggling around in the back of Gohan's mind. He tried to ignore it, but it just kept moving around, begging to be acknowledged.

Well, he _was_ a child…and children could get away with things like that…

Ah, what the hell.

Gohan swooped down and into the ocean. A second later, he broke the water's surface again, this time exiting, and soared back into the air, spinning like a thrown football. Tiny droplets of water sprayed up around him as he came out of the water. His clothes were soaked, and his Kami awful bangs pastered themselves to his forehead, but he didn't care. That was fun!

Krillen, unfortuantely, didn't quite understand. "Uh…Gohan? What are you doing?"

The chibi turned his head and grinned at his father's best friend. "Being a kid," he replied matter of factly before taking a second dive into the sea and reemerging a minute later, laughing like a maniac.

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Huh. So I get to be a kid again, Gohan realized. _Well, might as well enjoy it. Because in a very short time, I'm going to get whoever did this to me. And then we'll blow them up before they take over the planet, blah blah blah…_

By the time they landed on the island, Gohan had dived about five times, and enjoyed a race with a school of dolphins swimming along. Krillen, though, was at his wit's end.

As they ran across the beach towards the pale pink house, Krillen asked, "Are you sure you still have an eighteen year old mind?"

Gohan laughed. "Positive. Why?"

"Never mind."

AN: This seemed like a good place to end this, so I will. I can't believe I already got the second chapter of this done! Wow! Go me! Yay! BTW, has anyone spotted the running gag yet? Hehehe…

Okay, here's the scoop. I already know what's going to happen in the next couple of chapters, and I have one very big twist planned for a little later in the story. If anyone has anything they would like to see happen in the story, something they want Chibi Gohan to do, feel free to tell me, and if I can, I'll write it in. And be warned—I can't write fight scenes worth crap, so probably refrain from a new enemy showing up on Earth and trying to kill everyone.

Until next chapter, thanks a ton to my wonderful readers and reviewers!


	3. More Stuff Happens

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AN: Not too shabby on the updates, eh? Moving on! A, B, C, D, E, F, G…I do not own DBZ! I know that disclaimer has been done before, but I'm running out of ideas for 'em!

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Chapter Three—More Stuff Happens

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Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee

And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me.

-"Forgive, O Lord," by Robert Frost

At the sound of a knock on the door, Yamcha heaved himself out of the chair where he had been so comfortably residing. He and Master Roshi had been…ah…exercising. At the moment, the old guy was still glued to the screen. Yamcha sighed. He was that bored.

Due to the nature of the television viewing going on, Eighteen had chosen to absent both herself and her young daughter Marron from that area of the house, as they usually did while Master Roshi enjoyed his aerobics. Krillen had just been loitering around, but when the sky had gone dark, he had taken off. Yamcha had recognized the darkened sky and lightning as being the marks of a summoned dragon, but for some strange, inexplicable reason he just didn't feel like going off and checking into what could potentially be a new enemy that would try and kill them all.

For some reason, he didn't want to get involved with that, no matter how bored he was.

Stretching his arms over his head, he strolled down the short hallway, and opened the screen door. A grin crossed his face. "Hey, Krillen. Who summoned the Dragon?"

"I don't know," the former monk sighed. "But I think I know what the wish was."

"What?"

Gohan chose that moment to bounce forward. "Hi, Yamcha!"

The bandit's eyes narrowed for a minute; then recognition flooded his face, and he nearly choked. "No way…it can't be…" He knelt down to the child's eye level and studied the small face a little more carefully before asking, "…Gohan?"

"The one and only!" Gohan proudly proclaimed.

"But…but…" Yamcha sputtered, standing up to his full height again. "You're…a kid!"

"Yup!" Gohan said happily. In the half an hour or so since he'd been chibified, he was actually starting to act more and more like his childhood self. But he still didn't know how old he was. "But I've still got an eighteen year old mind. You should have seen it when I ran into Krillen. He started freaking out, and then he passed out, and I had to catch him before he hit the street, 'cause it would have made a really big mess, and—"

"Whoa!" Yamcha held up a hand. "Slow down. You're acting like a kid again, Gohan."

"Duh!" the chibi replied, exasperated, earning a slight chuckle from Krillen. "Anyway, I don't want to go home yet until I figure out how to explain this to my mother, so Krillen said I could come here and let you guys know what was up before I went home and tried to explain it to my mom."

"Fair enough," Yamcha nodded; he turned and pushed open the door to the Kame house. "Come on in. We'll see if we can come up with an explanation for ChiChi. Hungry?"

"Always!" Gohan bounded into the house.

The two men and one child walked down the short hallway and back into the living room from whence Yamcha had come. Master Roshi was still sitting on the floor, eyes glued to the television screen, doing his morning *ahem* exercises. He didn't even notice a small child with a goofy haircut creeping up behind him and peering over his shoulder.

Gohan's eyes widened. "Whoa…" Even to his eighteen year old mind, some of this was new. After all, sex ed didn't come anywhere close to covering everything!

The Turtle Hermit ignored the chibi and kept all of his focus on the screen. But he couldn't ignore the voice that seemed to come out of nowhere. Namely, ChiChi's voice. But then again, that was just plain impossible to ignore.

ChiChi's voice screeched, "Don't you dare let my son watch that garbage!"

All four of the people in the room looked around in bewilderment for the source of the voice. But ChiChi was nowhere to be found. In fact, the three members of the party with the ability to sense ki found her energy signal to be currently residing at the Son house.

Master Roshi blinked, but nobody could see it because he had his sunglasses on. But then again, he always had his sunglasses on. He hadn't taken them off in years. In fact, he wasn't sure if he could see without them anymore, he was so used to seeing the world through black-tinted lenses instead of the traditional rose colored. But anyway, he scratched his head in confusion. "How does she do that?"

All he got for an answer was a collective shrug from the other three people in the room.

It was only then that the Turtle Hermit noticed the peculiar condition of one of his compatriots. Unlike the others, it didn't take him but a second to put a name to the young face, which was still peering around his shoulder to watch the fascinating images on the television screen.

Krillen saw this as well, and dove across the room to switch the TV off.

Roshi grumbled, but returned his attention to the chibi. "Gohan? Is that you?"

"Yes, sir!" Gohan bubbled, then paused. Okay, why was he acting so much like his six year old self or however the HFIL old he was, anyway? He knew he was eighteen! What was the deal?

"Did the Dragon have something to do with this?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Ah."

"We're just letting everyone know," Gohan explained. "'Cause Krillen got really freaked out, and we don't want anyone to do what he did."

"What did he do?" Roshi asked, light flashing across the lenses of his ever present sunglasses. Honestly, had he ever taken those things off for any measurable period of time? Was it just something that all leaders of martial arts schools named after animals wore or what?

"He made a lot of funny noises, and then he passed out."

"So?"

"We were about a thousand feet up."

"Oh," Roshi nodded in understanding. "So, does your mother know about this yet?"

"Nope," Gohan shook his head. "I was hoping that maybe you guys could help me figure out an explanation. Something I can tell my mother."

Oolong and Puar chose that moment to come flying into the room, arguing at the top of their lungs. Only Kami knew what about those. Those two always seemed to be debating over something.

Puar noticed the strange child in the room first, and stopped fighting long enough to say, "Hey, don't I know you?"

"Yeah…you look familiar," Oolong agreed.

"I'm Gohan," the chibi sighed, starting to get a little tired of explaining it. But before he could go on any further, there was another interruption.

"What's going on?" a stern female voice asked from the doorway. Eighteen had appeared, leading Marron by the hand. The little blonde girl looked around in fascination.

"Oh, someone summoned the Dragon and wished that Gohan was a kid again," Krillen explained, jabbing a finger in the chibi's general direction. "So he's trying to figure out what to tell his mom."

Eighteen studied him for a minute, then actually smirked. "Nice haircut."

Gohan groaned. Why did his mother have to do this to him? Why, why, why? Why couldn't he have been wished back to a time when his hair was allowed the freedom to fly around in its natural spikes? Why, why, why? And why in the name of every deity imaginable did his mother have to giveh im the stupid 'do in the first place? This wasn't a hair_do_, it was a hair_don't._

It was only then that Gohan noticed something else that was kind of strange. Marron was standing next to her mother, holding one of her mom's hands. Her other hand was waving at Gohan, and she was standing on one foot, using her other foot to rub the back of her leg. Her chin was tilted down, and she was batting her eyes coyly.

After a minute, Gohan got it. _Uh-oh…this might be a problem…_

"Uh…maybe I should go home…yeah…I gotta…um…explain this to…uh…Mom…yeah…" he stuttered, feeling his face go red. Wait…she was three freakin' years old. Why was he sweating over this?

He didn't wait around to find out the answer to that, though. He made a quick exit and was off into the sky before anyone could stop him.

__

Yikes…that was almost creepy… Gohan sighed, thinking about Marron. She was too young to flirt, gosh darn it! And he was eighteen years old! She was three! Wasn't that a felony or something?

And besides, even if he was stuck being however old he was, there was always the obvious danger of gaining Marron's affections. Namely, her mother. Gohan had no doubts that Eighteen would personally kill any boy who might even dare to think of breaking the girl's heart.

To top it all off, before he had been reduced to his chibi self, Gohan had kind of been considering asking Videl out. Not that he actually thought she would say yes, but hey, it was worth a shot. And to HFIL with whatever teasing Krillen and Yamcha were sure to come up with!

Gohan zipped past the shore, where the ocean met the land, and over the forest. As he grew nearer to his house, he grew more and more nervous. How would his mother react to this?

He suddenly realized that he had left his book bag, loaded up with all of his textbooks, back at Master Roshi's house. Or maybe he'd dropped them on the island. He couldn't remember. Not that it mattered too much. They had gotten soaked when he'd taken his little plunges into the ocean, and for all intents and purposes, they were probably ruined. Not that he cared any, but his mother was probably going to have a few choice words for him about his lack of concern for his education. And if angered enough, Son ChiChi might very well decide to have some batting practice. Her Almight Frying Pan of Terror would be the bat, and Gohan's head would probably become the ball.

Unless, of course, she was too shocked by the current situation of her son to even remember to be angry. It was a long shot, but hey, stranger things had happened to him. Like when he had started hearing Videl's voice in his head…Vegeta had said it was normal for a bonding pair, but the psychiatrist had prescribed him those nice pills, so he wasn't sure exactly what that was about. But he'd eventually just figured out how to block the voices out. He was pretty sure Vegeta was right, though, and that the shrink was jealous because he couldn't hear any voices. Dumb psychiatrist.

The little house appeared below him, and he swooped down to land in the large expanse of grass that was the Son family's front yard. He tiptoed up to the door, peering around anxiously for any sign of his mother. But he saw none. A quick check for ki proved that both his mother and his brother were safely tucked away inside the house.

Another thought occurred to him: how was Goten going to take the fact that his beloved big brother was no longer…well, big? How would he react to having an older brother who was now his size? And how would he explain to Goten why they were now approximately the same age? Oh…this could end up being very, very complicated.

Gathering his courage, Gohan tapped on the front door. He didn't want to barge in. That would probably make his mother very, very angry. He wasn't quite sure why, but the strangest things tended to set his mother off. Best to just let her find things out for herself.

"Just a minute!" ChiChi's voice crooned from beyond the closed door. He could hear her bustling around, most likely tidying up something that had managed to slide a few millimeters out of place. ChiChi was always cleaning, though. In fact, Gohan was almost positive that if some crazed author was to write a story about his family, the Son family matron would either be cleaning or cooking, because that was just what she always did.

He hopped nervously from one foot to the other, waiting for the door to open and the axe to fall. And hopefully, when the axe fell, it would manage to do something about his ridiculous haircut.

And finally, the door opened, and Son ChiChi stepped into the doorway.

Her eyes locked with Gohan's.

AN: Uh-oh…ChiChi's about to find out what happened to her baby. Hehehe…oh, and very soon, maybe next chapter, Gohan finds out the who and why behind the wish. Yay! The next couple chapters might move a little slowly, but then after that, we'll probably start jumping blocks of time. I have four freakin' months to fill. And for those of you complaining about the moptop, I might do something about it…but then again, I might not. You never know…

BTW, I do have a lovely twist for this story. It'll be along in a few chapters. There will eventually be a little bit of Gh/V in this story. And no, not like that, you perverts! Geez…stop thinking like Master Roshi! Heehee, J/K.


	4. Explanation, Please

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AN: Spring break is here, so I have some free time! *gasp* *shock* *amazement* So what am I doing? Seeing if I can get a little bit ahead on this story, and maybe finish a couple one-shots. But enough about that, I'm updating now! I'm going to take this opportunity to say WOW!!! I love my reviewers!!!

BTW, I might do something about the hair, I might not. Haven't decided yet. We'll see. But I'm writing as fast as I can because there's something that's going to happen that I really really want to get to.

Anyway, on with da fic! I don't own DBZ. Oh, and does everybody like the little Robert Frost poem? Yes, that is the entire poem. Short and sweet. I think it sums up the story quite nicely, since this whole thing could be considered a big pratical joke that Fate decided to play on Gohan.

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Chapter Four—Explanation, Please

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Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee

And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me.

-"Forgive, O Lord," by Robert Frost

Son ChiChi stared down at the small child in front of her. For a minute, she almost thought it was Goten, who had somehow managed to sneak outside, and was now coming back in. But the thought vanished as quickly as it had appeared. The major problem with that hypothesis was the hair. Goten had his father's gravity-defying spikes. But this child had…a…mop…top…and the eyes…

Her eyes widened as she recognized the hair. Not the face, mind you, but the hair. After all, she had been the one to cut and gel that hairstyle into near permanancy. Not even her son's exploits on Namek had been able to disturb that style. Not even when he'd gone diving into an acid filled lake, or gotten swept up into a tornado or tossed around by Frieza. Now _that_ was a sturdy hair style. Millions of people would have gladly paid a lot of money to know what kind of hair gel was powerful enough to last through _that_.

Gohan waited patiently as comprehension dawned in his mother's eyes. Then he smiled quite charmingly (thankful for his new age because as a child, his smile had been enough to charm the paint off a building). "Hi, Mom. It's me, Gohan."

ChiChi nodded once, slowly. Her hands were starting to shake. A shocked look crossed her face. She tried her hardest to hold out, but it was no use. She just couldn't resist her own nature. And finally, she just gave in and did the truly ChiChi thing for a situation like this one.

Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she collapsed away in a dead faint, ending up flat on her back in the entryway of the little house she had fought so long and hard to keep clean. She did not move, but she made a whole bunch of really funny noises.

Gohan sighed with relief. Well, she had taken that a lot better than he'd expected her to.

Like the conscientious person he was and had been at any age, Gohan stepped carefully over his now unconscious mother into the house. He carefully moved his mother a little further into the house. Then he darted back to the entryway and closed the front door before returning to his mother's side.

ChiChi was out cold. Chances were that she wouldn't wake up for quite some time. Not that Gohan minded much. This gave him a little more time to try and figure out what was going on, and how exactly he was going to explain this to her when she did wake up. He still didn't know what to tell her concerning his current state.

Another thought struck him. He needed to tell Goten what was going on. He was a little worried at the effect this kind of surprise might have on his little brother. Er…well, not really a little brother anymore. More like a same size brother. He had figured himself to be approximately Goten's height, and so he was fairly certain that he was approximately Goten's age as well.

Leaving his unconscious mother zonked out on the couch, Gohan ran down the hallway to his little brother's room. The door was closed, but he could hear a voice inside, which suggested that Goten was playing, probably with his beloved Great Saiyaman and Videl action figures.

Gohan pushed open the door and peered into the room. Sure enough, Son Goten was sitting in the middle of the painfully clean room (the fact that it was painfully clean had their mother stamped all over it; Goten was as disorganized as his father), dancing his little plastic figurines through the air, and making up insane voices for them. Chibi Gohan had to laugh at the overly dramatic baritone that Goten somehow managed to summon up for Saiyaman, while at the same time he had to cringe at the high pitched squeak Goten had elected to use for Videl. His back was to the door, and he apparently didn't notice that there was anyone coming into his room.

But when Gohan closed the door behind him, even Goten couldn't miss that sound, and the spiky haired chibi (as opposed to the mop topped one) turned to see who had dared to interrupt his game of 'Great Saiyaman and Videl Save the City Again Because the Police Can't Do It Themselves.' It was actually a really fun game.

Two pairs of very young eyes locked, and for a long moment neither of them moved.

Then Gohan sighed. "Hey, squirt, It's me. Your brother?"

Goten blinked once. Then he blinked again. Then he did the very last thing that Gohan would have ever expected him to do when faced with a situation like this.

A huge grin broke on Goten's face, and he jumped to his feet and started doing little victory dances around the room. "YAY! IT WORKED!!!"

The limited words of explanation that had been on Gohan's tongue evaporated, to be replaced by acute shock and utter speechlessness. Finally, he managed to squeeze out a couple of syllables. "…it…worked? …what…worked?"

"The wish, silly!" Goten cheered, jumping up and down and clapping his hands happily. "I got the Dragonballs and woke the Dragon up and he came out and I made a wish and it worked!"

"What…wish…did…you…make…?" Gohan squeaked in that infernal soprano voice. Slowly but surely, comprehension was starting to dawn, and he was starting to figure out what probably happened.

"I wished that you were my age again, but that you would still be smart and stuff," Goten explained happily, doing joyous little pirouettes in the air. "And it worked! It really worked! You're my age again! You're a seven year old kid, just like me!" He paused, and studied his brother a little more closely. Then he burst out in hysterical laughter. "You look really funny! That haircut's so dorky!"

Gohan's worst fear was confirmed. It had been his little brother's doing. It had been Son Goten who had summoned the Dragon and transformed his older brother into a half pint. And now the brat…er, kid was making fun of him and his dorky haircut! The eighteen year old trapped in the (as he had finally discovered) seven year old body swallowed hard and tried to remain calm. After all, this could be handled cooly, logically, and without violence.

Yeah, right.

With a high pitched war cry, Gohan dove across the room and tackled his little brother (who actually was his same sized brother now) right out of the air, where Goten had been playing aerial hopscotch. They landed hard on the floor, where they rolled around for a few seconds. Finally, Goten managed to throw his brother, and they both sat there, panting and glaring at each other.

Gohan was about to go for his brother's throat again when he heard his mother's voice coming from downstairs, probably the living room. "You two had better not be killing each other up there! I just finished cleaning!"

The two chibis looked at each other, then dove out the door and ran down the hall to the living room. There, they saw their mother, still unconscious on the couch.

After staring at her for a long moment, Goten said, "Hey Gohan?"

"Yeah?"

"How does she do that?"

"I don't know."

Gohan took a few gasping breaths, and said, as calmly as he could, "Goten…why did you wish me back to being a seven year old? Why?"

He must have sounded angry, because Goten's face fell, and his little chin started to quiver. "I…I did it for you. You said you never got to be a kid, so I thought…I thought I could make you a kid again so you could have fun. I…I thought you'd like it. I wanted to make you happy…I'm sorry. I didn't know it would make you mad…" Tears welled in the dark eyes, and the little face contorted with the effort of not crying. He sniffled a couple times, and just managed to looked downright miserable. He had definitely inherited his father's talent for making people feel sorry for him, that was for sure.

Gohan was stuck between pity, forgiveness, and rage. He couldn't stay mad at that! No matter how bad he wanted to, he just couldn't say no to that face.

With a sigh, he gave his brother a hug. "It's okay, squirt. I know you were trying to help."

"I only used one wish," Goten said sadly, looking truly pitiful.

"Only one?" Gohan snapped to attention. "That means I can get wished back to my normal age in four months. It's really okay now, Goten. In four months, we'll gather the Dragonballs again, and then we can wish everything back to normal."

Goten brightened a little bit. "Okay! That's good!" Then his expression darkened. "Are you still mad at me, big…er, brother?"

"Naw, it's okay," Gohan shook his head. "You were trying to help. Just don't do anything like that ever again without checking it out with me first, okay?"

"Okay," Goten nodded fervently.

"Good. I'm glad we got that straightened out. But now what do I do?" Gohan chirped. "I don't have an explanation for Mom just yet, and I don't know how she'll take it if I tell her that my little brother made me a kid again. She had such big plans for me and stuff…"

"Oh, Mr. Piccolo wanted to talk to you when you got home," Goten supplied, suddenly remembering what his brother's old teacher had said. "You should go see him now. He knows about the wish and stuff. I bet he wants to help you out or something."

"Okay, sounds good," Gohan headed for the door.

"Brother?"

"Yeah?"

Goten's eyes grew wide and pitiful. "Are you sure you're not mad at me?"

__

I can't stay mad at him when he gives me sad puppy dog eyes like that! Gohan lamented. But he simply said, "Yeah, I'm sure. See ya later, kiddo!" And he ran out the door.

Goten watched his brother disappear out the door, and he watched the front door close. And then, slowly, a devious smile crossed the child's face to replace the sad puppy dogs eyes that had melted his brother's anger. "Hehehe…works every time."

AN: Our little Goten is quite the evil one, no? El diablo! Aw, there's a devil in all of us, isn't there? Hehe…there's no way anyone could possibly be that innocent! Not with Trunks for a best friend and Vegeta for a male role model. No way, Josè! But anyway, that's okay. I'm having a lot more fun with this story than I'd expected. But anyway, thanks a mil to all my wonderful, charming, amazing, beautiful reviewers. Luvs and kisses to you all!

I'm on the phone with Fred the Mutant Pickle right now. We're talking about our fics. I really need to give Freddie more credit, since we always consult on each other's fics, and he almost cowrite, like, half of my stuff. Or at least consulted on it. We trade gags back and forth and give advice and ideas. And now Fred's being really annoying, because I'm telling him what I'm typing write now. Fred, shut up! (Oh, and check out Fred's stories.) Fred, stop singing, dammit! I'm plugging you! Geez…annoying…

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Candyland's Fic Pick:

Title: It's A Start

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Author: sage

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Rating: PG

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Genre: Romance/Action/Adventure

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ID Number: 761316

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Summary: One of the best Gh/V stories I've ever read (and I have read a lot of them, mind you). But it's not your average tale, either. This one is completely original, it's a well-done AU story, and I'm hooked. Put it this way: at one point, there are two Gohans. Tie everything into Majin Buu being awakened…hooked yet? Trust me, you don't want to miss this awesome fic. I swear it on the toaster, my most sacred oath. ^-^


	5. Hey, Mr Piccolo

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AN: Hehehe…this story's fun! And now, Gohan has a talk with good ol' Mister Piccolo! Yay! This should be a lot o' fun. I don't own DBZ or the little poem—as it says under the poem, those two lines are the sole property of my favorite poet, Robert Frost.

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Chapter Five—Hey, Mr. Piccolo

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Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee

And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me.

-"Forgive, O Lord," by Robert Frost

Piccolo barely noticed the sound of the waterfall crashing down a few feet away from him. But then again, the waterfall was always there, always making its sound. It was a constant. Unlike most of the other things that went on in his life.

The Namekian was doing what he always did when not conversing and/or sparring with Gohan or being pestered by the children. He was meditating. But then again, Piccolo was always meditating. In fact, if he had gotten stuck in some deranged writer's story, he probably would have been hovering by the waterfall, doing his meditation there as always. Because that was what he always did.

It was a beautiful day by Piccolo's waterfall. Well, not that it was really his waterfall. He just happened to be there at the time, so one could kind of consider it his waterfall. He didn't own it or anything, but he had never seen anyone else there for long periods of time, so it could have been his by common law or something. And anyway, not that Piccolo would have tolerated anyone trying to move into what he considered his space.

But anyway, it was a beautiful, sunny day over Piccolo's waterfall. And probably elsewhere as well. But not everywhere. For all Piccolo knew, there could have been a hurricane in Europe that had destroyed Great Britain, or it could have been snowing in Iowa, as it was often prone to do. In April, no less (AN: Grrrr…wait…didn't I already use this gag somewhere before? Yeah…yeah, I did. Whoops! Bad author. No biscuit. Okay, maybe I should go on with the useless descriptions or maybe actually have some plot development in this story. Yeah, I could use some plot development…naw. Too much work.)

Okay, once the author decided to stop babbling to the readers, the scene could continue. Now where were we? Oh yes. Piccolo was meditating. Just like he always did.

Suddenly, Piccolo sensed a familiar ki coming towards him. It was someone he knew, of course—otherwise, it wouldn't have been described as familiar—but it was lower than usual. He grimaced inwardly at the slow pace of the approaching ki. But he didn't open his eyes or offer any sign that he had noticed anything was amiss. He just went on with his medition in front of his waterfall that wasn't really technically his waterfall…aw, you get the idea.

Finally, the ki flew right up to him and stopped, hovering a scant few feet away. But in the true Piccolo manner, he didn't show any sign of acknowledgement to the presence. At least, he didn't until he heard a voice he hadn't heard in years. A child's loud, high-pitched squeak that nearly made his overly sharp Namekian ears start bleeding.

"Mr. Piccolo?"

Fighting to keep from cringing due to the pain in his ears, Piccolo finally opened his eyes—and found himself staring right into a pair of wide, charcoal colored ones. They were huge in a young, round face that hadn't been seen for quite some time.

For a minute, he just stared. Then he smirked. "Nice haircut, kid."

Gohan made a face. "Shut up," he retorted without thinking.

Piccolo quirked a brow, but otherwise ignored the jibe. "So, I assume you know how this came about, correct?"

"Yup," the chibi sighed. "Goten wanted to help me."

"Actually, would you mind explaining to me how he thought making you a kid again would help you? I mean, what could be helpful about you being a…" his voice trailed off. "Exactly how old are you at the moment, anyway?"

"Seven. I'm Goten's age."

"So what's helpful about it?"

Gohan actually smiled a little. "He felt bad when I told him that I hadn't really had a childhood, so he decided to give me another shot at it. So he wished that I was his age again so I could have a chance to really be a kid. But he left me my eighteen year old mind."

"Dumb kid," Piccolo groaned, closing his eyes again and shaking his head.

"Hey, be nice!" Gohan admonished, suddenly very indignant. "He was only trying to do something nice for me! He just didn't plan it very well, that's all. Like making the wish while I was at school. That was _not _good planning at all."

Piccolo made a small sound, which Gohan assumed was agreement.

"And anyway, he only used one wish," Gohan continued. "So I'm only stuck like this for four months. Then we can gather the Dragonballs again, and wish me back to my normal, tall self."

The Name blinked. "Tall?"

"I haven't been this short since Namek," Gohan lamented. "I want to be tall again. I couldn't see over my freakin' desk at school! Geez, Piccolo, this whole thing has just been weird so far."

"How so?" Piccolo actually sounded interested.

"At first, none of my classmates recognized me, but then all the girls in the class started doing the stupid 'aww, how cute' thing," the chibi explained, doing little somersaults in the air. Just like a child, he was suddenly incapable of sitting still for more than five seconds at a time. "Then Krillen didn't recognize me, but when I told him who I was, he freaked. Yamcha, Puar, and Oolong freaked too. Master Roshi was too busy…um…exercising to really notice."

"Since you knew I wanted to talk to you, I assume you've been home," Piccolo interjected.

"Yeah. That was an adventure," Gohan sighed. "Mom opened the door. She stared at me for a minute, then passed out. Ended up flat on the floor. I put her on the couch and went to go see my brother. I thought he was going to be shocked, but instead, he was overjoyed, at first, anyway. Then he started making fun of my stupid haircut."

Piccolo swallowed his laughter at the ridiculous looking mop of hair that graced the top of Gohan's head. _Somehow, I don't think that hairdo is gonna make it through four months._ But instead of making a comment to that effect, he simply, "Well, I just wanted to make sure you weren't gonna go on a homicidal rampage and try to blow up the planet or something."

Gohan cocked his head to one side. "Well, I could if you wanted me to."

"You'd better not be planning any world conquests!" ChiChi—or rather, ChiChi's voice—interrupted out of nowhere.

They both looked around in confusion, then looked at each other blankly. In perfect unison, Gohan and Piccolo both yelled, "How does she _do_ that?!?"

"I think I'd better head home and see if Mom woke up yet," Gohan sighed. This was not something he was looking forward to. "At least now I have an explanation to offer up."

"Do you think your brother's gonna get in trouble?" Piccolo asked.

"Probably."

"Do you pity him at all?"

"Not really."

"Just making sure."

"See ya later, Mr. Piccolo!" Gohan flew a yards, then turned and waved. "I'll let ya know if anything important comes up, okay?"

Piccolo smirked and nodded; Gohan turned and shot off into the distant, heading towards his house. With the distraction…er, kid gone, he could resume doing what he always did. That is, meditating. He honestly didn't know why he meditated all the time, but hey, it was something to do.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Son ChiChi turned a measuring eye on her younger son. "So let me see if I understand this. You gathered the Dragonballs, without anyone's permission, and summoned the Dragon all by yourself…and wished that your brother was your age again?!?" She had started softly (which was extremely dangerous) and grew louder and louder with each word until she was screaming by the time she finished.

Goten shifted nervously under the pitiless words and evil eye. "Umm…yeah."

ChiChi threw her hands up in the air. "What am I going to do with you, Goten? What were you thinking? Young man, I—"

Finally, Gohan managed to summon up a twinge of pity for his little brother, and cut in. "Mom, it's okay. Goten was trying to help. It was supposed to be a surprise for me."

Goten nodded, casting a pair of perfectly worked sad puppy dog eyes at his mother, and praying to every deity he'd ever heard of that she might decide not to kill him.

After a long, tense moment, during which both brothers unconsciously held their breath, the mother sighed and threw her hands up in the air again. "Well, what's done is done. We're stuck with it for the next four months. But Goten, don't you ever do anything like that again, do you understand me, young man? Or I'll…I'll do something! I don't know what it is yet, but I'll do something very unkind!"

Both boys simultaneously let out a huge sigh of relief. Goten jumped out of his chair. "I won't, Mommy. I promise. I'm sorry."

But as soon as she had walked out of the room, Goten grinned evilly. "Well, now what do you wanna do, Gohan?"

The teenaged chibi grimaced. "How about sit here until the four months are up?"

"No!" Goten almost shouted, but then he remembered to keep his voice down so his mother wouldn't hear him. "You hafta have some fun! That's why I wished for you to be a kid again!"

Gohan thought about this for a minute, then smiled. "Okay, okay. What do you want to do?"

AN: Weird place to end a chapter. But that's okay.

…okay, Okay, OKAY!!!! Something will be done about the hair situation. Geez…you people ^-^ I was gonna do something about it anyway! Have a little patience, and check back for the next chapter, which I'm gonna go start now. Until then, ciao!


	6. Videl's Truth

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AN: Yay! I'm back with a brand spankin' new chapter! Enjoy! I'm ending every sentence with an exclamation point! That's very weird! I don't own DBZ! I don't own the Robert Frost poem either! I have about thirty cents in pocket change! So don't sue me! I have no money!

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Chapter Six—Videl's Truth

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Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee

And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me.

-"Forgive, O Lord," by Robert Frost

Gohan sighed happily, feeling the sunwarmed grass under his back. He was sprawled in the grass on top of a small hill near his house, looking up at the blue sky. For some reason, he had taken to one of his childhood games of trying to find shapes in the clouds. All in all, it was quite comfortable, and he would have been quite content to remain there until the four months were up. But then again, eventually the sun would set, and it might rain, and…well, maybe it would be a better idea to just lay there for the time being, and move when the weather changed. Yeah, that would work.

It had been one week. One week since Goten had made that wish. One week since he had blacked out in the middle of his Lit class, and woken up to find himself back in his seven year old body. One week since he'd gone to school. Which reminded him—his mother had ordered him to fly back over to Master Roshi's sometime in the extremely near future and retrieve the schoolbooks that, according to ChiChi, he had so carelessly left there.

In light of his current…ah, situation, his mother had given in on the subject of his schooling. For the first time in her life, she was being reasonable. Namely, she agreed to call the school and give them a reason why he wouldn't be in class for the next four months. He could have started tap dancing for joy when she said that, but then she reminded him that she expected him to keep up with his studies whilst at home, and his mood had dimmed. A little.

The call had been made yesterday. Gohan had done a little bit of eavesdropping outside the kitchen while his mother was on the phone. He knew that the excuse for him not being in school was supposed to be that something serious had happened, but did she really have to tell them that he had died? Well, she hadn't said that exactly, but the basic gist of her speech was that he was very sick, and chances were that he might kick the bucket. So he was being sent out of the country for a few months to try and regain his health, if such a thing were possible.

After she had hung up the phone, Gohan had gone on a quest to find something heavy that he could repeatedly hit himself in the head with. The only thing he had been able to find was his mother's frying pan, and the very thought of smacking himself with it was too frightening.

But no school for four months! Four months of relative freedom to do what Goten had intended when he had made the wish: Gohan had four blessed, beautiful months to just be a kid. And now that the initial shock had worn off, he had every intention of enjoying this time to the fullest.

Now if only he could do something about his Kami awful hair…

But his attention was suddenly drawn to a figure in the sky. Someone was flying to his house. A quick check on the ki signature proved it to be none other than Videl.

Yet another explanation that Gohan was _not_ looking forward to giving. But that was Videl for you. She always had to know exactly what was going on, or else somebody got hurt. She went after information like Frieza after the Dragonballs.

Gulping hard to try and swallow his sudden nervousness, Gohan got up from his temporary bed on top of the grassy hill—which was a real shame, because it was a very comfortable bed—and took off running in the direction of his house. He didn't want to fly because if she saw him and they met in the air, and she had a reaction like Krillen's…oh, this just would not be pretty.

She beat him there, though, and was greeting Goten by the time Gohan reached his home. The chibi with spiky hair was enthusiastically giving his beloved "big sister" a big hug, and chattering about a mile a minute about something completely unimportant. Fortunately, whatever he was babbling about, it had nothing to do with his brother's situation.

Gohan grimaced. This might not be pretty. But he darted out of the bushes and ran right up to his brother and his best friend. "Hey."

Videl stared at him for a minute, as though sizing him up. This new kid looked familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. "Hi there." Then she looked back down at Goten. "Is this a friend of yours?"

"Uh-uh," Goten shook his head. "That's—"

"Goten!" ChiChi's voice suddenly echoed from inside the house. "You let your brother explain it! It's his situation, after all!"

Goten looked back towards the house. "How does she do that?"

But nobody knew. Nobody knew exactly how ChiChi did much of anything, though. Nobody knew how she managed to cook enough to keep a walking appetite like Goku satisfied. Nobody knew how she had gained access to the Sacred Frying Pan of Doom and Terror. Nobody knew how she had gained the power to control unruly Saiyans. In short, not much was known about ChiChi's strange, mysterious, and downright deadly powers.

But that was all right. Gohan was contemplating selling the book rights to Stephen King, and letting the master try his hand at figuring out some explanation that would also make the best seller list. Mr. King was going to entitle his book _As the Pan Thwaps, _or something equally sinister. Gohan had no doubts that the novel would give millions of cowed men nightmares for weeks.

"Videl, it's me," Gohan sighed, deciding that the outright truth would be best in a situation like this. "This is going to sound crazy, but I'm Gohan."

She stared blankly at him for a long moment. "You're…Gohan…?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, waiting for her reaction, whatever it may end up being.

"But…but…" she sputtered, much as Yamcha had upon receiving the exact same piece of news. "…you're…you're a kid!"

"Yup," he assented. "I'm an eighteen year old stuck in my seven year old body. Any questions?"

"Only about a million," she straightened up and put her hands on her hips. A very ChiChi like expression branded itself onto her face, and her blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Let's start with the easy ones. Who, what, where, when, why, and how?" She counted the questions off on her fingers as she spoke them, then looked at him expectantly.

He groaned. "Who? Goten. What? A surprise for me. Where? I don't know exactly, but somewhere out here, I guess. When? A week ago. Why? I never got to be a kid, so Goten decided to give me a second chance at childhood. How? The Dragonballs." He also tallied off the responses on his short fingers, then looked right back at her.

She blinked once. Then she blinked again. Then she got down on her knees so that they were eye to eye, and she studied his face. And finally, a big smile grew onto her face, and she actually laughed. "Oh, you're so cute!" she exclaimed as she threw her arms around him. Then she stopped. "Wait…did I just use the word cute?" Shaking it off, she took another look at him, and laughed again. "Uh, Gohan…what's with the hair?" But before he could answer, she continued, "That has your mother stamped all over it."

"Wow!" he exclaimed, surprised that she had figured it out. "You hit the Saiyan right on the head with the frying pan!"

"Just smart, I guess," Videl nodded knowingly, obviously proud of herself. "Actually, that's why I stopped over. Just wondering why you haven't been at school for a week. It's not like you."

"Mom was actually being reasonable for once," he whispered, then cringed, hoping and praying that he wouldn't hear that mysterious voice of hers that seemed to be following him around everywhere as of late. But nothing came, so he continued, "I don't have to go back to school until I get wished back to my normal self in four months."

"Wow," Videl said. Suddenly, she seemed very distracted, as though something had just occurred to her. And from the look that flashed across her face, whatever had chosen that instant to pop into her head was _not_ a pleasant something. But she didn't give voice to whatever was running through her mind. She didn't have a chance to; her communicator chose that moment to start beeping like crazy.

With an exasperated sigh, she stood up and pressed the button on her wristband. "Yeah chief?" A bunch of hard to understand words began spouting forth from the miniature speaker on her arm. "A robbery? Again? Good grief…okay, I'll be there as fast as I can." She looked down at Gohan. "That's why I haven't been able to get over here for the last few days. There's been some kind of a robbery or a hostage situation or a hijacking double parking every day this week! I'm going crazy!"

Gohan expressed his sympathies. "Sorry Saiyaman won't be there for a while."

"That's okay. I'll survive," she sighed. "Well, see ya later!"

It was only after she had left that Gohan realized he didn't know what had been bothering her near the end of their conversation. She had really looked upset about something all of a sudden.

__

Oh well, Gohan decided. _If it was really important, I bet she'd tell me._

"Gohan! Goten!" ChiChi appeared at the front door, calling to them. "You two! Come inside and get washed up for dinner!"

When you're a seven year old half Saiyan with a Saiyan's appetite, and you're handed the promise of food, abstract thought takes a poor second. All thoughts of what could possibly have been bothering Videl were erased from Gohan's mind as he raced his brother into the house.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Goten tiptoed down the hallway and eased open the door to his brother's bedroom so he could peer into the room. Through the darkness, he could see the shadowy outline of Gohan's sleeping form curled up on the bed. The deep, even breathing said quite clearly that Gohan was sound asleep.

The spiky-haired chibi tiptoed into the room and shut the door behind him as gently as he could before sneaking across the room. He stopped by the bed and just stared down at his brother. Gohan looked so innocent when he was asleep! But Goten refrained from using the word 'cute.' First of all, that was just creepy to describe one's older brother as being 'cute.' Secondly, Gohan and Goten were both warriors. And warriors were _not_ 'cute,' as some members of the female persuasion had yet to learn.

But Goten's attention soon focused on the reason for his late night intrusion into his brother's room. He smiled. Yessirree, Goten had just been in a very helpful mood as of late, and he was going to do yet another favor for his beloved older brother.

Still grinning, Goten raised a pair of scissors.

Gohan just kept snoring.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning…

Goten pulled on one of his standard orange and blue gis and ran down the hallway to the kitchen, where his mother was already busying herself by preparing breakfast.

"Morning, Mom!" the chibi piped happily.

"Good morning, sweetie," she smiled benevolently, flipping the bacon in the pan. The hot grease jumped and crackled. "Is your brother awake yet?"

"Umm…I don't think so," Goten shook his head, fighting to keep the smile from his face. Oh boy, was Gohan going to be surprised when he woke up and looked in a mirror!

"Would you go wake him up?" ChiChi requested. "Tell him breakfast is almost ready."

"Kay," Goten readily agreed, and darted out of the room, back up the hallway, and burst into his brother's room, making as much noise as possible to ensure that Gohan would wake up. "Gohan! Mom says it's time to get up, 'cause breakfast is almost ready!"

The chibi in the bed half sat up, and propped himself up on his elbows. He looked around the room drowsily, blinking. Then he yawned and said, "Okay, squirt, I'm up. I'll be down in a minute."

Goten lingered for an extra few seconds in the doorway to admire his handiwork. This was a really big surprise! Gohan was gonna love it! Right?

Confident of his helpfulness, Goten scampered back down to the kitchen, where his mother was putting plates full of food on the table. The chibi jumped into his seat and inhaled deeply, breathing in the delicious smell. "Yummy!" he chirped, grabbing his fork. He was more than ready to dig in!

"Not yet," ChiChi admonished, taking her own seat. "Wait for your brother."

About ten seconds later, a scream broke the silence of the little house in the mountains. It was loud enough to send the birds outside scurrying into panicked flight.

ChiChi jumped to her feet as her older son (who was now the same age as her younger) came flying into the kitchen. He was wearing his favorite blue-purple gi and all necessary accessories for training, but that wasn't the problem. He had his hands clamped over his head, and his face was twisted in a mixture of joy and panic.

"Goten!" he yelped. "What did you do to my hair?!?" He had no idea how he knew, but he just knew that his little brother had been the perpetrator of this latest trangression against Gohan's well-being.

Goten grinned proudly. "That haircut you had before was really stupid. It didn't look good." The chibi wrinkled up his nose and shook his head to emphasize his point. "So while you were sleeping last night, I cute your hair."

AN: Ta-da! Hair problem solved! Is everyone happy now? Geez, you people…I know I'm making Goten into the little devil child, but hey—my story, my rules. I hope you enjoyed, and feel free to come back soon, cuz the next chapter should be up shortly!

BTW, does anyone have a guess as to what is bothering Videl? It'll be important, trust me. You'll find out in a couple chapters, but in the meantime, I'd love to hear your guesses. ^-^


	7. A Messy Situation

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AN: I've managed to type three chapters in one sitting. Hooray for Spring Break! Chapters 5, 6, and now this one all got done in one day. Not too shabby. I'm proud of me ^-^ But anyhoo, on with da story! Thanks to all my wonderful, wonderful reviewers. You all rule! I don't own DBZ. Why? Does someone actually think I do or something?

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Chapter Six—A Messy Situation

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Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee

And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me.

-"Forgive, O Lord," by Robert Frost

Two weeks had now passed since the wish that had screwed up Gohan's life so drastically. One week had gone by since Videl's visit. And it had been six days since the morning Gohan had woken up and discovered that his little brother had cut his hair while he had slept.

It really wasn't that bad. Actually, in Gohan's eyes, almost anything was an improvement over the dreaded mop top. His hair was now sticking out in several spikes, almost reminiscent of their father's famous hairdo. It was shorter, of course, but as far as Gohan was concerned, as long as he didn't have bangs anymore, it was okay.

But anyway, after several days, ChiChi had finally forgiven her younger son for ruining Gohan's hair, which was, as she put it, 'a true masterpiece—destroyed!' Once Gohan's shock had finally worn itself away, he had actually spent twenty minutes thanking his brother profusely.

Goten had been thoroughly enjoying have a brother his own age to play with, and Gohan was really getting into the idea of being able to relive some of his happier days of childhood, those all too rare occasions where he could actually have some fun running around in the woods and such. But on the other side of the coin, being the same age and being allowed the same priveleges of fun were also causing some severe moments of tension between the brothers, and they had taken to arguing over the stupidest of things.

In fact, they were enjoying one of these excursions of brotherly bonding at the moment, as it were. The terrible twosome were engaged in one of their favorite activities—they were going exploring. Not that there was much they hadn't explored or anything, but it seemed like there was always something lying around in one of their secret places that was new and exciting.

"Not fair!" Goten protested loudly as he tripped over some tree roots protruding from the ground and ended up sprawled flat on the ground, eating dirt. Which is really disgusting, if you think about it. I mean, aside from the awful taste and texture and stuff, there's tons of germs and bacteria and stuff that live in dirt. And you don't know who—or what—has been walking on that dirt! So eating dirt is definitely a bad idea. Just a friendly note from your author. Okay, enough of my pointless commentary. Back to the story!

Goten quickly recovered, though—and wisely spit out the dirt that had been forced into his mouth by his fall—and continued the chase. But Gohan had been running around these woods for a full eleven years longer than his brother, and knew them eleven times better. He probably could have navigated those woods blindfolded if he had to. Which he didn't, which was also nice.

Well, the chase went on, with Gohan in the lead, and Goten trying fervently to catch up, until they finally ended up in a clearing which held one of Goten's favorite landmarks in the woods and mountains that surrounded their house. In this little round opening in the trees was a large pile of dirt. And because of the rain that had fallen so generously the night before, the dirt was now a lovely mud soup. Not literally soup, of course. Kami forbid anybody should try to eat it or something!

So they stopped, and they both stood there, panting heavily from the exhertion of their exhilirating race through the woods.

"Hey, Gohan," Goten said between gasps.

"Yeah?"

"You suck! I can't even beat you when you're my age!"

"Well, geez, let's think about this," Gohan retorted, still breathing very heavily. "I've been running around these woods for twice as long as you have. I know this place better than you do."

"You still suck," Goten glowered.

"Tough," Gohan snapped. "If you're going to be a sore loser, I'm going home."

After making a face at his brother (which, of course, was the truly adult thing to do in a situation like that), Gohan turned to storm off back towards the Son house, thus ending yet another one of their fights over pointless things that just didn't matter.

But Gohan didn't get very far. He had taken two steps when something hit him in the back. He couldn't see what it was, but whatever it was, it was cold and wet and slimy and soaked right through the back of his gi.

"Ack!" he yelped, whirling around only to get hit again. This time, right smack dab in the kisser. The same cold, wet, slimy substance on his back. Only this time, he could see what it was. "Yuck!" he cried again, using the backs of his hands to wipe the goo from his face. He looked down at his hands, and saw the brown stuff that was now all over them. Then he glared up at his brother.

Goten was standing beside the huge mudpile. His hands were dripping a brown substance similar to the stuff on Gohan's hands (which, Gohan noticed, was also very, very much like the mud soup on the ground); the most telling piece of evidence, though, was the triumphant grin on Goten's face.

"I got you!" Goten declared proudly.

"Oh really?" Gohan snarled. "We'll see about that!" Before Goten could react, Gohan dove forward, grabbed a handful of mud, and launched it. Even at seven years old, Gohan's aim was near flawless, and he managed to nail his brother right in the face.

Goten yelped and immediately wiped the goo from his eyes; those selfsame eyes then narrowed. "Okay, Gohan, if that's how you want to play it…this means war!"

And with those words, the full fledged mud war began. For nearly half an hour, Gohan and Goten threw mud at each other, dumped each other face down in the slop, and just made a really big mess in general. After about the first ten seconds, they were both covered from head to toe in the brown ooze. It was thoroughly disgusting.

But, like the two children they were, their quarrel had been completely forgotten; they were too busy having the time of their lives to think about something as petty as an argument.

It went on like that until someone interrupted them.

"What are you guys doing?" a familiar voice asked from beyond the mud's edge.

They both stopped and peered through mud-filled eyes to see who the speaker was.

Krillen was standing there, holding his daughter, and watching them with an expression that was dancing on the knife edge between amused and bewildered.

"Oh. Hey Krillen!" Gohan laughed. "We're having a mudfight!"

"Well, I could see that," the former monk replied sardonically, dodging a poorly aimed mudball. "But why are we having a mudfight?"

"Because we can!" Goten said matter of factly.

Gohan didn't answer because he noticed that Marron was once again making calf eyes at him. She was twirling the end of one blonde pigtail around her index finger, and had her head tilted down bashfully. Krillen didn't seem to notice, but Gohan could feel his face going bright red. Even covered from head to toe with mud, Marron was still flirting with him! Yikes!

Trying his best to shake it off, Gohan was about to say something when all of a sudden, the Voice of DOOM was heard. The Voice of Doom came from the sky, the trees, the ground, even from the mud.

"Gohan! Goten! You two had better not be making a mess!" ChiChi's voice, the Voice of Doom, echoed from nature itself.

Gohan and Goten, who were starting to grow accustomed to this, didn't look too overly surprised at the sudden sound of their mother's angry voice, but Krillen jumped a mile and glanced about him with a panicked look on his face.

Finally, he just stared at the two Son boys, who were still sitting in the mudpile, and asked, "How does she do that?"

They both shrugged.

Suddenly, a terrible, horrible, awful…really, really bad thought occurred to Gohan. He gasped, and grabbed his brother's arm in a panic. "Goten…how exactly are we going to explain this to Mom?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Fifteen minutes later…

The two chibis were busy making in depth studies of their shoes and the grass. ChiChi paced back and forth in front of them, looking down at them with something similar to disdain.

Needless to say, it had not been a very pretty picture when Gohan and Goten had come in—or rather, tried to come in—completely covered, from head to toe, in slimy brown mud. The reason it is better to say that they tried to come in is because ChiChi refused to let them in the house in that state.

And now, out on the front lawn, she was pacing back and forth in front of them, like a drill sergeant inspecting his…er, _her_ troops. And ChiChi definitely had the presence for a drill sergeant. She could have had any army whipped into shape in no time flat. But then again, had she been any less formidable, she probably never could have been able to deal with anyone as impulsive and rambunctious as her husband, and for that, the woman was to be commended.

"Well?" she barked so suddenly that both of them jumped. "What do you have to say for yourselves, you two?"

"Sorry, Mom," they both muttered in tiny little voices; like the good little soldiers…um, _sons_ that they were, they were trying to hide the fact that they were scared to death.

ChiChi stopped pacing and stared down at them, arms folded across her chest. Luckily, the Frying Pan of Doom was nowhere to be seen, but that didn't necessarily mean that she wasn't going to pull it out of nowhere or something. She did, after all, have quite a knack for doing that kind of thing. "Are you two ever going to do something like this again?"

"No, ma'am."

"Do you want to know what will happen to you if you do this kind of thing ever again?"

"No, ma'am."

"I didn't think so. Now, you two are going to take a bath. And don't even think about setting foot in my house unless you are completely spotless! Not a trace of mud anywhere! Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Get to it," ChiChi barked her orders, once again bringing to mind a drill sergeant setting troops about an obstacle course. Then she turned on her heel and retreated into the barracks…ah, house.

Gohan and Goten were left standing there; their wide eyes, the only part of them actually visible through the mud, staring blankly ahead. Suddenly, both of them had the feeling that they had just survived a near death experience.

After all, their mother was just plain scary when she wanted to be. Most children feared monsters under the bed or in the closet, or the dark. No, the Son boys feared their mother more than any childhood fable. Gohan was honestly more afraid of his mother than he had been of Frieza and Cell…combined!

Not wanting to invoke her anger again, the two chibis ran off to take the prescribed bath.

AN: Kudos to Angel Wings for the idea for this chapter. Mud fight…haha! Brilliant! Praise her, I say!

Next time, on "Once Upon a Chibi," Videl comes over and finally admits what's been bugging her. Enter point of conflict! Hehehe…this is where I'm going to put a little tiny twist in this story. Again, I love all my reviewers! You all rule!! *sprinkles loves and kisses and cookies to all who have reviewed*


	8. Uh Oh

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AN: Chapter 8! I'm just on a writing kick as of late. I think it's because there's a couple more things that I already know are going to happen that I really want to get to. But anyway, I don't own DBZ or the Robert Frost poem that lies beneath my chapter titles.

Also, kudos to the person who signed themselves as "Hey, everybody lookat me…again." Thank you sosososo much, you are my one hundreth reviewer!!! Hooray! Over a hundred people reviewed my little story. I love you all a million times!! *sprinkles loves and kisses and more cookies to everyone who reviewed* Skittles!

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Chapter Eight—Uh-oh…

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Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee

And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me.

-"Forgive, O Lord," by Robert Frost

Gohan was amazed by the abundance of good weather. They could have had a typhoon or something, but instead, he got to spend his relived childhood days in blissful sunshine. Every day, when he opened his eyes and saw the wonderful sunlight flowing in through his bedroom window, he sent a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god, goddess, nymph, or whatever it was that controlled the weather.

Then he went outside to play.

At the current moment, he and Goten were playing a game of Tag—Saiyan style. That meant that rather then tagging each other, in order to make the other person It, they had to slam one another into the ground as hard as they could. It could have been compared to the human game of Ultimate Tag, which some of you might not know about, but it's a favorite to play in the choir room at my school, leading choir directors to play unkind April Fool's jokes about giving students referrals…but I digress. After about thirty seconds or so, they were both already battered, bruised, bleeding, and having the time of their lives.

Actually, they seemed to be having a lot of times of their lives as of late.

Goten was It. Now, Gohan wasn't quite at his brother's level. Goten was stronger and faster at age seven then Gohan had been, but fortunately, Gohan was smarter. So Gohan relied on cunning, rather than speed, to avoid being tagged…er, tackled. And thus far, they balanced out quite nicely, with each of them having taken their turns at being rubbed facedown in the dirt.

As the sun started sinking lower in the sky, they both collapsed onto the ground, panting with exhaustion, and filled with a tired happiness, Gohan especially. So this was what it was like to be a kid! This is what it meant to have fun and play and not have to worry about anything.

Even his mother apparently understood Gohan's need to enjoy this renewed childhood while he had it, and hadn't been pestering him much about his studies. She had, however, ordered him to go get his schoolbooks from where he had left them—he had forgotten to bring them home with him when he had left Master Roshi's island. Although the order had been made two weeks ago, Gohan was putting it off as long as possible. Once the books were back in his desk, he was afraid that his mother would decide to do something drastic, like glue him to the chair so he couldn't get away from his studies.

Son Gohan didn't procrastinate, unless it was something that would condemn him to almost certain death by frying pan. Besides, he just wanted to be outside and enjoy his revived childhood.

Still panting, Gohan sat up and grinned broadly at his brother. Something about being around that kid just brought out Gohan's inner child; the fact that his inner child came running out screaming with waving arms and ki blasts afiring wasn't his fault. It just happened that way.

"So…what do ya wanna do now?" Gohan asked enthusiastically.

"I dunno," Goten replied just as happily. "I thought of Tag. You pick the next game."

"Umm…" Gohan thought hard. "Hide and seek?"

"Yeah!" Goten jumped to his feet and started hopping up and down with excitement. "You count to a hundred, and I'll go hide!"

Before Gohan could even begin to summon up a protest, Goten had disappeared into the forest in search of a hiding place. Gohan sighed, and closed his eyes to begin the count. But like the child he was so thoroughly becoming, he did what any child would probably do when asked to count to one hundred. He cheated a little bit. "One, tw…skip a few…ninety nine, a hundred!"

Having completed the countdown, he opened his eyes and peered around. "Ready or not, here I come!" With the warning sounded, he dove into the forest in search of his sibling. It didn't take him long, though. He just followed the ki.

That was another advantage Gohan had: Goten wasn't anywhere near as adept at sensing ki at this age as Gohan was. So for Gohan, this game was more of a joke than anything else.

As soon as he found Goten, they both hightailed it back to the house so Goten could take his turn at being the seeker. As soon as the countdown started, Gohan was off into the forest, searching for a hiding spot that wouldn't take Goten all night to find.

Eventually, he just dove under the waterfall, waving a greeting up to Piccolo on the way under. The Namekian was meditating (surprise, surprise), and simply raised an eyebrow in response, then went back to his in depth contemplation of whatever it was he was conducting an in depth contemplation of, completely ignoring the children and their game.

Fortunately, Gohan had been trained to hold his breath for lengths of time that bordered on the obsene, so hiding underwater worked just fine. But he wasn't a fish, and soon he felt his lungs starting to burn. He resurfaced, and was preparing to take another deep breath and resubmerge when he heard what he had come to know as…_it_.

"You have better not be drowning out there, Son Gohan!" ChiChi's voice screeched.

He blinked. "How does she do that?" Then he shrugged it off and dove back under the water to await his anticipated discovery by his brother.

It only took Goten half an hour to find his brother, and the game continued until the sun was setting, and they heard their mother's voice calling them to dinner. As the two chibis headed for home, waving goodbye to Mr. Piccolo on the way, Piccolo secretly thanked Kami for the relief. Gohan was acting his age as of late, and to be frank, the Namekian found it quite irritating!

Dinner was consumed fast—as most meals eaten by Saiyans were—and the children were outside within a short period of time to resume their game. Their poor mother was left staring at the skyscrapers of dirty dishes, muttering to herself about ungrateful children and frying pans.

"Do you wanna pick the game this time?" Gohan bubbled. Then he remembered—he was supposed to be eighteen! Yet here he was, acting like a game of Tackle…um, Tag was the most amazing idea in the universe!

"Sure!" Goten nodded fervently. "Umm…" As he pondered this life altering question, his eyes raised towards the sky, where he caught a glimpse of a figure soaring through the air, heading for their house. He momentarily forgot about the selection of game, and squinted to try and see who it was.

When the person got close enough for him to pull out an identity, Goten grinned. "Look, brother! Videl came over to play!"

Gohan also turned his eyes skyward, and grinned. Then he took a deep breath. With Videl around, he needed to act like his eighteen year old self, not like the seven year old he appeared to be. After all, this was Videl they were talking about.

She landed gracefully in the front yard, and strolled casually across the grass, humming audibly to herself. But although everything about her read calmness, she was definitely uptight about something.

"Hey, guys," she grinned, bracing herself for the whirlwind of chibi that hit her every time she came over. Namely, Goten, who had to give his big sister a hug. "What's up, kiddo?"

"Brother and me are playing games!" Goten replied happily, hanging from Videl's neck. "Hey, Videl, do you wanna play?"

"Maybe later, kiddo. I need to talk to your brother for just a minute, okay?" Videl said patiently.

Goten's face fell for a moment, but he quickly regained his cheerful mood and nodded. "Kay! But only if you promise!"

"It's a promise," she nodded. "Now can I talk to your brother?"

"Kay!" Goten agreed, letting go of her and scampering off into the house to alert his mother to the arrival of the girl who, if ChiChi had anything to say about it, would be her future daughter in law.

"Hey, Gohan," Videl said amiably, sitting down in the grass next to the chibi. Then she did a double take and half smiled. "The hair. Big improvement."

"Goten cut it while I was asleep," he replied mournfully, and she laughed. "So what do you need to talk to me about?"

That uneasy look came back to her face, and she fidgeted a little bit. "Gohan…you said you're stuck in your seven year old body for how long?"

"When the wish was made, it was four months," Gohan replied, sounding exactly like his eighteen year old self. If Goten brought out his inner child, then Videl brought out his inner adult. "But now…let's see…a little over three months now, I guess."

"Oh…" she answered absently. It was only a single syllable, but it conveyed volumes.

If only Gohan could figure out what the volume were, exaclty. "Is something wrong?"

Rather then the expected denial and reassurances that everything was fine, Videl looked him straight in the eye and said, "Yes. Something is wrong."

He blinked. "What?" A pause. "Does it have something to do with Goten's wish?"

"Yes."

"What's up?"

Videl sighed. "Think very carefully, Gohan."

Gohan looked blank.

"Something coming up in a month," she continued, trying to get him to think of it on his own.

Gohan looked blank.

"Something big and important," Videl coaxed, starting to feel exasperated.

Gohan looked blank.

"Something everyone's been talking about at school! How could you not know?"

"I haven't been at school in three weeks, Videl," Gohan reminded her timidly.

She could have smacked herself in the head, but she refrained, and said, "You really don't remember what's coming up, do you?"

Gohan shook his head. "Nope. What is it?"

Videl took a deep breath and told herself that bad memory was just a side effect of his chibification. That way, she wouldn't have to borrow ChiChi's frying pan and smack him with it for forgetting something this important. "Gohan," she said evenly. "Prom is in a month. We were going to go together, remember?"

Suddenly, Gohan felt kind of sick. Uh-oh…this could be a big problem.

Scrath that. This _was_ a big problem.

AN: Not as humorous as some of the other chapters, but trust me, there is a purpose for this. My mini twist! My little added spin on Gohan's chibification. This whole prom situation is one thing I've known was going to happen from the very start of this story, believe you me. I think it's more because my own prom is in less than a month, so I've got it on the brain. Props to **Kioko, **who was the only one who guessed. And read her stuff, too. Very talented author!!! Lots of fun Gohan torture ^^

But anyway, I hope all of you will stick with me. I've been writing on this story like crazy, and having a blast!

Remember—if thou should haveth anything thou wantest to see happen, drop me a line, and if it's something I can write up, I might put it in da story. I love my wonderful reviewers!!!!! You all rule!!! Until next chapter, ciao!


	9. Chow Down and Disturbing News

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AN: Yay! I'm back! Hooray! A couple people said they wanted to see this happen in the story, and in truth, it will become important a little later on. Just bear with me, and all will make sense later. I don't own DBZ or Robert Frost or nuttin'. I don't even own the car I drive. My parents do.

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Chapter Nine—Chow Down and Disturbing News

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Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee

And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me.

-"Forgive, O Lord," by Robert Frost

The weather in Otherworld…well, it was just like any other day. They really didn't get too much variety in the Elysian Fields of the afterlife. Not that anyone cared either way. The weather had always been that way. It was one of those things that just was.

At the moment, the select few fighters who had been granted access to the special training grounds of the next dimension were enjoying a daily ritual. Namely, lunch. The one time of the day where they all actually sat down together and did something other than try to beat the living…er, um, dying daylights out of each other.

One of these fighters usually didn't talk very much, though. He ate enough to feed the rest of them a hundred times over, and was usually still hungry. He just tossed in a few words between enormous mouthfuls. Not that anyone minded. That was just Goku for you. They had figured out early on that the Saiyan residents of Earth were almost single handedly responsible for the famines in Ethiopia.

"Hey," Goku proclaimed around mouthfuls of noodles. "This is really good!"

Everyone nodded good-naturedly. As usual, that was just Goku for you. Training and food. Not much else. But nobody complained. Actually, considering Goku's power, some of them were secretly starting to wonder if perhaps his diet was really his secret. One or two of them had actually tried it, and ended up with exceptional stomach aches as a result. Now they were wondering if perhaps, like the guy in the Bible, his hair was his secret. That would explain a lot.

But anyway, the fighters just continued with their meal. Strange…one would think that being dead would mean they didn't have to eat, but oh well.

Swallowing his last bite, Goku looked pitifully down at his empty plate. Fifteen plates, and he still felt as though he hadn't eaten anything. He glanced around, and noticed that the guy to his left still had plenty left…surely he wouldn't mind if Goku just helped himself to a little…

That plan came to a screeching halt when lightning flashed, and a voice came down upon the assembly of fighters who were enjoying their midday meal. Wait…does Otherworld even have days? Oh well, doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things.

"Son Goku, you keep your hands on your own plate!" ChiChi's voice raged from above them.

Everyone looked around in confused panic. What the HFIL was that? Where did it come from?

Finally, Pikkon asked the question that was on everyone's minds. "Who was that?"

"My wife…ChiChi," Goku said sheepishly, pulling both of his hands back under the table.

Pikkon blinked. "How does she do that?"

"I've been trying to figure that out for years," Goku replied mournfully.

"Goku!" King Kai suddenly came waddling into the little room where the fighters were relaxing. "Goku, I think you'd better have a look at this!"

Sighing inwardly over being torn away from lunch, the Saiyan obeyed, and followed his old teacher out of the building. Whatever he was being summoned to have a look at, it had to be huge, amazing, or otherwise important, because King Kai was absolutely frantic, and muttering in a voice that sounded like he had several dozen walnuts stuffed into his cheeks.

The little blue catfish man finally stopped by a strange looking pool, with waters that were every color imaginable, all swirled together into a beautiful sparkling rainbow kaleidoscope. This was a special pond, for it allowed those residing in Otherworld to see what was going on in the other dimension—in this case, on Earth. "Take a look!"

The colors moved, and finally, a picture was formed. Two small children were engaged in a full fledged mud war; the two chibis were covered from head to toe in the filth. Goku laughed out loud at the image. "So…what's the big fuss? A couple of kids making a mess. Nothing wrong with that…unless you're Gohan, and ChiChi finds out…" The great warrior shuddered at that thought.

King Kai sighed. "Keep watching."

And so Goku watched as Krillen showed up. It took the Saiyan a minute to recognize his best friend; Krillen had hair…and a daughter? Bizarre. And as if that wasn't bad enough, he watched the two children get an earful from…ChiChi?!?

"Uh, King Kai?" Goku said hesitantly. "Why is ChiChi grilling those two?"

"Those are your sons, Goku," the little blue god replied impatiently.

"Sons?" Goku jumped a mile. "As in, more than one?!?"

King Kai nodded. "Goten was born after you died."

"But wait a second…" Goku thought something over carefully, then counted something out on his fingers. "Hey, King Kai, Gohan was eleven when I died. Did ChiChi have two kids or something?"

"No. You only have two sons."

"But those two are the same age!" Goku protested. This just didn't add up! "Unless Gohan shrunk or something, how is this possible?"

King Kai chuckled. Oh, Goku was so clueless. Sometimes it was just a lot of fun to show the mighty warrior something that was ten feet over his head and sit back and watch as he tried to figure it out. Nine times out of ten, Goku would give up, and it was always funny to see his face when it was explained to him. "Goku, Goten gathered the Dragonballs and wished Gohan back to being a seven year old again. That's why they're the same age."

Son Goku jumped right out of his halo. "WHAT?!?" Then he looked back down at the pool, where the two children had finished their bath. Now they were very clean little kids, as opposed to the walking mud monsters they'd been a short while before. With the mud gone, it wasn't hard to see the family resemblance. And Goku definitely recognized the one face as being a young Gohan. "Huh…what do you know…it is Gohan!"

"He's an eighteen year old stuck in a seven year old body," King Kai explained, savoring the bewildered look on Goku's face. It was so much fun to watch the strongest warrior in the universe struggle with this kind of problem. It was almost as amusing as the time Pikkon had asked Goku what eight plus four. That question had been asked two months ago. They expected an answer any day now.

"Aw, that really stinks!" Goku frowned and folded his arms across his chest. "Can he go Super Saiyan or anything like that?"

"I don't believe so," King Kai shook his head. "But take a look at this! The mudfight happened yesterday, but I thought you'd get a kick out of it. Look what's happening right now."

Goku looked back down at the pond, wherein time had fastforwarded. Now Gohan was sitting next to a pretty girl, who looked herself to be about eighteen or so. They both looked very upset, and the girl was saying something about the prom. Gohan had gone quite pale, and was shaking his head. He looked incredibly sad about something.

"What's wrong?" the Saiyan queried, scratching his head. "They don't look happy."

"Well, your son's in high school, and there's a big dance in a month called the prom," King Kai explained patiently, reminding himself that Goku had never gone to real school, and therefore would have no inkling of what a big deal prom was. "That girl's name is Videl. She's a very good friend of Gohan's."

Goku grinned. "Gohan has a girlfriend, huh?" He studied her for a minute. "She's a looker!"

"She's not his girlfriend quite yet, but it'll probably end up that way," the catfish man snorted. "But Gohan was going to take this girl to the dance. Except now that he's seven again, he can't exactly go. He can't even go back to school in this state. That's why they're both pretty upset. They were really looking forward to this."

"Hmm…" Goku murmured, studying the expressions on the faces in the pool. The girl—Videl—was obviously trying to hide the fact that she was crushed, and Gohan didn't look much happier. The two eventually said goodbye and parted ways, with Gohan retreating into the house and Videl, surprisingly enough, taking to the skies in flight, most likely headed for home.

"I can hear the wheels turning in your head, Goku," King Kai teased. "They're all rusted, so they're making a lot of noise!" He snorted at his own joke.

Goku managed a smile. "Yeah…poor Gohan, though…" _First getting changed into a kid, and now missing out on something that's obviously pretty huge, _the Saiyan thought sympathetically. _I wonder…_

"Hey, Goku! Do you want the rest of this?" one of the Otherworld fighters called from the building on the training grounds. He was holding up a bowl of leftovers.

All thoughts of everything instantly fled Goku's mind at the sight of the food, and he zipped back to devour the unfortunate leftovers. He'd worry more about Gohan's problem later.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Alone in the safe haven of his bedroom, and protected beneath the sheets and blankets on his bed, Gohan sighed unhappily. He had been enjoying his days of renewed childhood. But now there was that thing he had so been dreading: a shadow, looming over his happiness.

And he'd been looking forward to the prom. What wasn't to look forward to, though? Spending an evening with his friends, most notably Videl, and have some fun at the dance. Gohan could think of far worse ways to spend an evening.

But as it turned out, he was going to actually find a worse way to spend his evening. He couldn't go. Not as a seven year old! They probably wouldn't even let him into the dance at this size.

With a sigh, Gohan rolled over. Things had just kept getting more and more complicated since Goten had made that wish, and he didn't know what to do about it. It had taken him nearly a month to work up the nerve just to ask Videl to the dance.

He remembered that, too…

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Sighing, the raven-haired girl spun around and walked away from the blonde jock. Sharpner looked confused. He had just asked Videl to the prom, and she had turned him down? How was such a thing possible?!? Then he noticed Erasa shooting him a look, and he grinned. Or maybe he could just go for Plan B. Yeah, Plan B would work just fine.

Gohan watched for a minute as the two blondes start whispering to each other. Then he took a deep breath and hurried down the hallway into which Videl had disapppeared.

He had guessed that she would be at her locker, and he was proven right. The young Miss Satan was shoving some books into her locker and others into her bag, all the while muttering to herself. He couldn't quite hear what it was, but it didn't sound very cheerful.

The hallways were fairly empty, considering that most students were out of the building within ten seconds of the bell sounding. Good. That would make this a lot easier.

He swallowed hard and strolled over. "Hey, Videl," he said amiably.

"Hi, Gohan," she said flatly, not looking at him.

Okay, she's in a bad mood, _he sighed mentally. But he just leaned against the locker next to hers and said casually, "So…going to the prom with anyone?" _Oh, that was smooth, Son, _he instantly started berating himself. _Way to go!

__

But surprisingly, Videl didn't even seem to notice the obviousness of the question. "No. Sharpner just asked me for the fifth time, and for the fifth time, I turned him down." She shot Gohan a measuring gaze. "You're a guy. Maybe you can tell me why he doesn't get the hint."

"Uh, sorry…" he shrugged.

She actually looked disappointed. "You were my last hope, Son."

"Sorry," he said again, then glanced around. There was nobody nearby. It was now or never. "Um, hey…Videl…um, if you're not busy or anything, and…um, you're not going with anybody—"

She slammed her locker shut, making him jump. Then she turned and gave him a look. "I'll answer if you actually manage to ask."

He blinked. "Umm…wouldyougotopromwithme?" There. He'd asked.

She quirked a brow. "What was that?"

She's teasing me, _he realized, and he sighed. "Would you maybe like to go to prom with me?"_

For a minute, she didn't react. Then, slowly, she smiled. "I'd love to."

That had been one of the happiest moments of Gohan's life. Of course, it had been fairly short lived because not five minutes later, they had been roped into a double date with Sharpner and Erasa, who had suddenly decided to escort each other to the dance. But hey, that was life. You won some, you lost some. But now it looked like Gohan had lost. Big time.

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AN: Another successful chapter (I hope!) Dedicated to all who wanted Goku to find out! I lova my reviewers, you all rule!!!

Oh, and by the way, I think I might be bringing Hannah back for this tale. For those of you who have never met her, she is an original character, the housekeeper at the Satan family mansion; she's also kind of like Videl's adoptive [grand]mother. She's really old, and tons o' fun. Trust me, you'll like her. I'm pretty sure I'll be putting her in this story for counsel and [more] comedy relief.


	10. The Prince and the Chibi

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AN: Sorry I didn't update yesterday, but I didn't have this done, and I went to our school's musical. My sister was in it. Every time they needed someone to scream, my sister got it. That's not so bad, right? Except she would practice at home…*groan* Our musical was "Once Upon a Mattress." It's the most fractured fairy tale I've ever seen, featuring The Princess and the Pea. Put it this way: have you ever seen a musical that has a song called "A Girl Named Fred," that actually fits in context with the musical? Funny, but I didn't think so.

We're into double digit chapters. Hooray! Can you tell I'm having fun with this story? But anyway, on we go. I don't own DBZ or Robert Frost. Akira Toriyama and…um, Robert Frost do, respectively, I guess.

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Chapter Ten—The Prince and the Chibi

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Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee

And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me.

-"Forgive, O Lord," by Robert Frost

Nervously, Gohan stepped up to the huge domed building and swallowed hard. He had realized earlier that morning that he had never gotten around to telling the members of the Briefs family about his current situation. He had intended to go the night before, but then Videl had shown up, and he'd been somewhat distracted for the rest of the evening.

But he had just decided to worry about that a little later. Right now, he had to figure out how he was going to manage to punch Vegeta in the face, should the proud Saiyan find it acceptable to laugh at the perceived misfortune of his rival's younger son. And he had to try and think of an excuse to appease Bulma, should she be irritated that it took him this long to tell her about his situation. And Trunks…well, there was no telling how Trunks was going to react.

__

Probably just like his father, Gohan thought glumly as he knocked on the door, then stepped back and waited for the axe to fall when the door opened.

Well, the door opened.

Trunks looked at him in confusion for a long minute, then grinned. "Uh, hi! Welcome to Capsule Corp! Can I help you with something?"

Gohan blinked. "You don't recognize me, do you?"

The lavender-haired chibi looked taken aback. "Uh, no. Should I?"

"Yes, you should," Gohan replied; he wasn't in the mood to be polite, so he just did the impolite thing. He pushed past Trunks and into the building.

"Hey! You can't go in there!" Trunks protested indignantly, closing the door and giving chase as Gohan stormed through the hallways in search of Bulma. "How do you know where you're going, anyway? Have you been here before or something?"

"Many times, Trunks," Gohan replied.

The son of Vegeta stopped. "Who are you?"

Bulma chose that moment to poke her head into the hallway. Her eyes immediately locked onto Gohan, like radar set to an intruder alert. Her first thought was that there was something oddly familiar about this kid, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. "Hi, there. Can I help you?"

"I hope so," Gohan said mournfully. "Bulma, it's me. Gohan?"

She blinked. Then said, slowly, "…Gohan?"

He nodded, ignoring the fact that Trunks' jaw had fallen a full three and a half feet, and had ended up on the floor. Somehow, that gave Gohan a certain satisfaction.

"Gohan? But you're…you're…" Bulma actually stuttered.

"I'm the world youngest eighteen year old," he said wryly. "Seriously, Bulma, I'm eighteen years old in here! This is my seven year old body!"

"How—" Bulma started to ask.

He cut her off. "Goten. Dragonballs. 'Nuff said."

Gohan followed her into one of Capsule Corporations many lounges, and they took a seat. Trunks trailed along behind them, trying to get an answer to this mystery. How was it possible that Gohan was…well, his size?

Before Gohan could launch into an explanation he was already tired of giving, a loud roar was heard echoing throughout the many hallways of the huge building. "WOMAN!!"

Bulma rolled her eyes. "In here!"

Seconds later, Vegeta appeared in the doorway, wearing training clothes. He had obviously just emerged from his treasured Gravity Room. "Woman! Food!"

"In a minute, Vegeta," she snapped back. "We have a guest."

The Saiyan's eyes fell on the diminuitive form in the oversized chair, and he frowned. "And just who exactly is this…guest?"

"Why, Vegeta," Bulma said sweetly, eyes sparkling. "I'm sure you remember Son Gohan."

Vegeta did a double take, and his eyes widened almost imperceptibly. But he covered it well with one of his patented, trademark smirks and said, "What happened, brat? Did you shrink in the wash?"

"No," Gohan replied in a strained voice. He'd been here less than five minutes, and his fists were already itching to plant a nice, tasty knuckle sandwich right in Vegeta's teeth.

Then he heard his mother's voice—not from anywhere around him, but inside his own head. "Gohan, you'd better not do anything violent!"

"How does she do that?" he muttered under his breath.

"What did you say?" Vegeta snapped, but Gohan ignored him. He was pondering pros and cons, and decided that trying to punch Vegeta wasn't a good idea. Considering that he couldn't even go Super Saiyan at this age, even attempting that would probably have been suicide. No, that just wouldn't work. So instead, he just sighed and launched into the simple explanation he had already given everyone else.

"Goten felt bad that I didn't have a childhood, so he gathered the Dragonballs and wished that I was seven years old again," Gohan told them. "But he left me my eighteen year old mind, I guess. He thought he was doing something really nice for me, and it has actually been a lot of fun. But thank Kami he only used one wish. We'll be able to gather the Dragonballs again in four months and wish me back to normal. In the meantime, I've discovered that I'm very good at something."

"What's that?" Bulma asked inquisitively.

Gohan grinned. "Goofing off."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Erasa let out a high-pitched squeal that left Videl's ears ringing. "Oh! What about this one?"

With a sigh, Videl let herself be dragged over to a clothing rack, where Erasa selected some big peach colored monstrosity of a dress and held it up in front of Videl to see how it looked.

The raven-haired girl fought down the sudden urge to gag and said, "Erasa, have you ever heard the saying KISS?"

"Yeah," the blonde nodded with a smile. "What you and Gohan are gonna do after the dance."

"No," Videl said, reminding herself to stay as calm as possible. "KISS, as in 'Keep It Simple, Stupid.' You've never heard that?"

"Nope," Erasa shook her head. "So…you don't like this dress."

"No, I don't," Videl shoved the awful peach thing away. "If I'm going, it's going to be simple. Nice and simple. Something even I can't mess up."

"Right," Erasa nodded knowingly. "Basic red work?"

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I give up, Videl sighed. "Whatever. Just as long as it's _basic_."

Ten minutes later, Erasa shoved Videl into a fitting room with something long, strappy, and slinky in an eye blinding shade of red. Videl obliged, and had to admit that it looked pretty good.

"Fine, this works," she stepped out of the room with the dress slung over her arm. Then she took a chair while Erasa tried on every dress in the store. After about fifteen minutes of sitting silently and nodding every time the blonde came out to model, Videl decided to take a risk and confide in her old friend. "Hey, Erasa…there might be a problem with this whole prom thing."

"What's that?" Erasa asked through the dressing room door.

"Well…I don't think Gohan can go."

The door flung open, and Erasa emerged in a hurry, hooking the neck of her current dress—something short and blue. She stared at her friend in amazement. "What do you mean he can't go?"

"Just that. He can't go. Some…circumstances beyond anyone's control."

"But—but—" Erasa actually stuttered. "But—but—do you realize that he was scared to death to ask you to the dance?"

"Yeah, I know…wait…" Videl's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How did you know?"

"I asked him if he was gonna ask you," Erasa bubbled. "He didn't answer, so I knew he wanted to. I just gave him a little encouragement, and it worked! And now it's all falling apart!"

"I don't know if I even want to go anymore," Videl said, looking down at the dress in her lap.

"You're going whether Gohan goes or not," the blonde said firmly. "And that's that. You're not missing out on the biggest even of our high school lives just because Gohan's gonna be a jerk."

"Erasa, it's not like that," Videl protested. "Trust me on this, it's not his fault."

"Whatever," Erasa said, obviously not convinced. "So, what do you think of this one?"

"Hmm…" Videl said noncommittally, residing herself to make appropriate comments for each new outfit her friend paraded around. Otherwise, she stayed within her own thoughts.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Oh no!" Bulma said, shocked. "The prom? You've got to be kidding!"

"I wish," Gohan replied miserably. "And I was actually looking forward to it, too."

"Yeah, 'cause you were gonna go with…_Videl_!" Trunks, in the typical eight year old fashion, was making kissing noises on the other side of the room.

"So let me get this straight," Vegeta said. "You've been happily reliving your days as an even younger brat than you usually are, and all of a sudden your girlfriend shows up and reminds you about some big thing you two were supposed to do together, but you can't go because you're a mini brat now instead of an older brat."

"That's the basic idea," Gohan sighed. Agreeing was just a lot easier. Except… "Vegeta, I've told you a million times, she's not my girlfriend!"

"Does your mother know?" Bulma asked. She could only imagine how Son ChiChi would react to something like this, and none of the images she had in her mind were very pretty.

"She freaked," Gohan looked miserable. "She started crying and screaming and lamenting and saying something about never getting us together and never getting grandchildren." He sighed unhappily. "The way she was talking, you'd think I was missing my wedding day, not just a school dance."

"Poor Videl," Bulma murmured.

"So what are you and your mate going to do about it?" Vegeta demanded, savoring the angry look that sudden appeared on Gohan's face.

"Vegeta, she is NOT my mate!!" Gohan protested very loudly.

"Yeah, right," Trunks laughed and started making kissing noises again.

Suddenly, Vegeta felt very proud to be the father of such an evil, evil brat…er, child.

"Well, I think I'd better head home," Gohan said, jumping down from his chair. "Just wanted to let you know what's going on. You should have seen what happened when Krillen saw me. He freaked, then he passed out. Fell right out of the air. I had to catch him before he hit the ground."

Bulma, Vegeta, and Trunks all laughed as Gohan waved goodbye and headed for the door.

But when he got to the front door, someone stopped him. "Hey, Gohan, wait up!"

A second later, Trunks darted into the entryway, where Gohan was standing with the door open a crack. The lavender haired chibi smirked. "Hey, since you're seven again, I have to ask…do you know any really good practical jokes?"

Gohan thought back to only moments before, remembering Vegeta's disparaging comments concerning Gohan's growing friendship with Videl. Slowly, an evil, thoughtful smile crossed the seven year old face. "Oh, yes, Trunks. I know a few really good jokes. Between you, me, and my brother, I think we can pull them off with no problem."

Trunks' sly grin grew even more devilish. "Awesome. I'm running dry on good pranks lately."

Gohan's own smile mirrored his friend's; they were both wearing sneers that would have made Vegeta incredibly proud. "And as luck would have it, I know just the person we can play them on."

AN: Hehehe…let the fun begin! We all know who the victim is, right? I already have the next chapter done, and Chapter 12 is about half done. I work in really weird ways, don't I? But hey, it works for me. I usually get things done. Key word: usually ^^ But anyway, I hope you'll all tune in for the next chapter, 'cause things are gonna be crazy. Let the pranking begin!

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Candyland's Fic Pick:

Title: Wake Me Up

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Author: CrazyGohanGurl

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Rating: PG

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Genre: Suspense

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ID: 1309697

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Summary: There's only two chapters of this up right now, but this story looks like it has a lot of potential. It's a really interesting concept, too. One day, a short time after the Cell Games, Gohan passes out, and lapses into a coma. He's been in this coma seven years, and the tournament's coming up. Goku comes back, but Majin Buu's awake too. But Gohan just won't wake up. This is written by the same person who wrote _What's This Life For? _and _Low Man's Lyrics_ (which got taken off the site). She's a really good author. Enjoy!


	11. The Prank, Part I

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AN: Hi again! I don't own DBZ. I'm not even going to try to be creative with this disclaimer thing. I'm totally out of ideas for it, anyway.

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Chapter Eleven—The Prank, Part I

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Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee

And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me.

-"Forgive, O Lord," by Robert Frost

Candles burned in scones and holders set up around the room, bathing the table in a soft yellow glow. Well, actually, they were electric, battery powered candles, since the children were still too young to be playing with fire.

Around the circular table in the center of the room stood three figures. Diminuitive in stature, they still looked fairly ominous. Each of them was clad in a long, dark green robe that draped around them on the floor for miles; the long sleeves hung way past their fingers, and the oversized hoods almost completely obscured their faces. In short, the garments were several sizes too big.

One of the figures spoke in a low, flat whisper. "Welcome, friends. The first meeting of the Order of the Prank and Frying Pan Support Group shall now come to order."

"Hey, Gohan," another figure said loudly, "what happened to your voice?"

"Shut up!" the first speaker snapped before resuming his mantra in the same even tone as before. "Our first order of business. Please read the agenda."

The person who had not yet spoken nodded, opened up a folded piece of paper, and cleared his throat. "First, devise and finalize our Grand Enormous Master Prank. Next, frying pans and stress relief—a comparative study. Third, lunch. Fourth, discuss the connection between frying pans and PMS…whatever that is. Then dismiss the meeting, give my mom the robes so she'll wash them, and go bother my Dad for a little while." His purpose accomplished, he bowed and pocketed the paper.

"Thank you," the original speaker said. "Now let us begin with the first item on the list. We must plan our Supreme Master Prank."

"And who's the victim?" one of the other robed figures asked. This particular's person's hood was sticking up in certain places, as though the person beneath the robe had very spiky hair.

The first speaker raised his head; the light from the battery-powered candles illuminated the devious smirk on Gohan's face. "Vegeta, of course."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Yes!" Trunks grinned in triumph. "I knew I had some of these things left!"

Scooping his treasures into a waiting shoebox, he jumped down from his perch on top of the highest shelf in his closet. He skipped back out into his bedroom and held up the prize for the viewing pleasure of his fellow conspirators. "Told ya I had some!"

Gohan grinned evilly. "Excellent. Now we can put step two of our Grand Master Plan into effect, just as soon as—"

"WOMAN!" the familiar roar bellowed, echoing down the empty hallways. "LUNCH!"

Gohan, Goten, and Trunks looked at each other and smirked. The luck gods had just smiled down upon them, presenting them with an opportunity that was beyond ideal.

"All right, boys," Gohan said with a diabolical glint in his eyes. "Let's do it."

The three chibis tiptoed out of Trunks' bedroom and into the hallway. They peered around, searching for any sign of other people moving about. Silent and stealthy, they stalked through the long, twisting corridors of Capsule Corporation. The theme song from "Mission:Impossible" began to play, and searchlights started drawing irregular patterns on the walls and floor.

"Would you cut it out?" Goten hissed angrily towards the ceiling. "You're gonna get us caught, and then we're gonna get in trouble!"

__

Oh. Sorry.

The searchlights vanished, and the music stopped.

"Thanks," Goten said happily. He received a smack on the head from Trunks for his trouble.

"Geez, are you trying to get us caught, too?" he asked in a hissing whisper.

Goten's bottom lip started quivering, and he turned on the sad puppy dog eyes that probably would have made even Cell stop what he was doing and go 'awww.'

Trunks fell before the almighty power of what he referred to as 'the Goten eyes.' "Okay, okay, I'm sorry I snapped. But could you at least try to keep it down?"

"He's right, squirt," Gohan nodded and agreed, though a little more nicely. "Just until we get this rigged. Once it's set up, you can make all the noise you want."

Goten grinned. "Yay!"

"SHHH!"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In the kitchen, Bulma blinked and looked around, completely ignoring the acrid odor of smoke wafting up from the food she was attempting to cook on the stove. "Where did that music come from?"

Vegeta just snorted. He didn't care. He wanted his lunch. NOW!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The three chibis managed to sneak outside without getting caught. Triumphantly, they ran the short distance across the lawn to the treasured Gravity Room. There would be time for celebration after the first part of their Super Duper Grand Master Scrumpdiddlyumptious Plan was completed. That is, if they weren't all in full body casts in the Intensive Care Unit of West City Hospital. But hey, what waslife without a little risk or two?

Cackling evilly, they opened the door, hurried into the room, and closed the door behind them. There. They were in. Now they had to hurry up and set the Plan in motion before they were discovered.

"Are you sure you can rig this, Gohan?" Trunks asked, suddenly very nervous. Even he had never had the audacity to play a practical joke this big on his father.

"Yeah, brother," Goten agreed, watching intently as Gohan got to work on the technical aspect of their Evil Plan. "This seems really hard."

"Relax, guys," Gohan replied, not taking his eyes from his work. This was honestly child's play, though. After all, one wasn't friends with the famous technological genius Bulma Briefs without picking up a few things about computers, technology, wires, and circuitry. "Remember, I'm eighteen. I know how this kind of thing works. It'll be just fine."

Fifteen minutes later, the Gravity Room door opened, and three small forms slipped out and tiptoed back towards the house to wait.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Vegeta strolled confidently through the hallways of his home. Having completed his midday meal in spite of Bulma's inability to cook anything edible, he was ready to resume his training. Vegeta's training was almost the parallel of Piccolo's meditation: it was what he always did, every waking moment of every single day, working out in his beloved Gravity Room.

He stepped outside into the afternoon sunshine. A beautiful day, plenty of time to conduct sparring matches with invisible opponents, and not a brat…uh, _child _in sight. Things couldn't possibly have been more perfect, unless Frieza had been miraculously resurrected and appeared right there so Vegeta could kill him. But one just couldn't have everything one wanted.

Vegeta sauntered across the grass right up to the door of the Gravity Chamber and flung said door wide open, already preparing himself for his spar.

Something nailed him right in the face. Not a physical, solid thing, but a mist of some kind, a spray of smoke. Whatever it was, it hit him dead on, enveloping his head in a thick fog.

Almost immediately, his eyes started to burn. It quickly escalated to the unbearable level, and he actually cried out in pain. Clasping both hands over his eyes, he staggered backwards, then commenced to running around the yard, blind, and tearing at his eyes; he tripped and ended up flat on his back in the middle of the yard, trying desperately to claw his tear filled eyes out.

His yell had brought Bulma running, and she was trying to yell something at him, but he wasn't listening to her. His ears had picked up some other, far more interesting noises.

First, bushes rustling and twigs snapping. Then several clicks. And finally, restrained laughter. The laughter of a few young children.

Suddenly, something in Vegeta's mind clicked, and he pulled himself under very careful, if shaky, control. He pushed himself into a sitting position, still keeping one hand clasped tightly over his burning eyes. Despite his very best efforts, a few tears still managed to escape from beneath his hand and course down his face; his glove was soaked. In response, the childish laughter just grew louder.

"Trunks!" Bulma's voice snapped, and suddenly it got quiet enough for Vegeta to hear the birds chirping nearby. In his mind, he could quite clearly envision Bulma at that moment: hands in fists on her hips, blue eyes flashing angrily, posture rigid and stern, ready to do battle with Cell himself, and win.

"Hey…Mom…" came the reply in a shaky, nervous voice. "What's…up?"

"Gohan…Goten…Trunks…" she said, suddenly very soft and calm—which was truthfully all the more dangerous, as these three knew very well. "What did you three do?"

"Um…well…uh…" Goten's stuttering voice was music to Vegeta's ears, even though his eyes still felt as though they were literally on fire.

"Uh…we…kind of…" Gohan said, soprano voice going even higher from panic.

"Spit it out!" Bulma shrieked, making everyone, including Vegeta, jump a mile. "What did you do? Tell me now!"

Vegeta took this opportunity to try opening his eyes. His vision was instantly assaulted by light and blurs of color, all of which were just barely visible through the tears still welled in his eyes. And his eyes were still burning hell! He probably wouldn't be able to see normally for quite some time.

As he struggled to see, he heard the confession he'd been waiting for. Gohan, who had obviously forgotten exactly how scary Bulma could be, especially to a child, blurted out frantically, "Tear gas! Tear gas bombs! Wired to the Gravity Room door! Please don't hurt me!"

Before anyone else could react at all, Vegeta surged to his feet and lunged. By ki sensing alone, he located and grabbed Gohan. His hands even managed to close around the chibi's neck.

How convenient.

But before he could commence the strangling, or break the chibi's neck (and before Bulma could pull out her trusty frying pan and thwap her mate for being overly violent), they heard what Gohan had come to know as the Voice of Doom.

ChiChi's voice came flying at them out of nowhere. "Vegeta! Put him down right this instant!"

The Saiyan Prince looked around for a minute in panic. Then his bleary gaze came to once again rest on the blurry form of Gohan, dangling from his hands. "How the hell does she do that?!?"

Gohan just shook his head, and Vegeta, too startled to do much else, let him go.

And Gohan suddenly had the feeling that he had just narrowly escaped death's grasp. But just barely. But hey, he wasn't complaining. He was more than grateful for small favors.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Our plan was a success," Trunks intoned from beneath the hood of his dark green robe.

"Yes, it was," Gohan replied. "Now we must prepare for Part Two of our Supreme Great Cool Amazingly Wonderful Evil Master Plan."

"All this just to torment my father?" Trunks asked. Not that he was complaining, of course.

"Yes," Gohan said simply. "Now, let us commence the planning."

"I'm hungry," Goten said.

AN: HAHAHA!!! I truthfully know nothing about tear gas. I just thought it would be fun to describe Vegeta running around, trying to claw his eyes out. And fear not, for this isn't the last prank our dear chibis will be playing on everyone's favorite Prince. Hehehe…I'm so cruel.

Next chapter, Gohan goes to get his backpack…and makes a very strange discovery. Plus, Marron makes another appearance. Heeheehee…I had Fred the Mutant Pickle read that chapter for me. I've never seen Freddie laugh that hard. In the middle of choir class, no less. Our director kept giving us really funny looks. It was so strange. I can't figure out why he would give _us_ weird looks…


	12. Bookbag Blues

**AN:** Another chapter! Yay! Just for the record, the prank chapters will be spread out. Remember, Gohan's got four months to play pranks on Vegeta, so we have plenty of time to squeeze all of them in. Kay? I don't own DBZ. Any questions? Didn't think so ^^

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Chapter Twelve—Bookbag Blues

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Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee

And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me.

-"Forgive, O Lord," by Robert Frost

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It had finally happened. After managing to put it off for so long, Gohan had finally been given an ultimatum by his mother. He had two options: go retrieve his school books and things from where he had so carelessly left them on Master Roshi's island…or die.

Not a difficult choice, really.

So here he was, en route to the Kame House, and enjoying every second of it.

Gohan was alone, and he had already decided that he had plenty of time, so did what any normal child in his position would do: he was goofing off. Dipping down into the ocean waters, then pulling back up to soar above the clouds before diving again; spinning little loop de loops n the air; chasing sea birds...in short, Gohan had given himself over to being a kid.

At least, he did when no one was around to see him. Otherwise, they would probably think he was crazy or something. Heaven forbid he act like a maniac or anything.

But all too soon, the gaudy pink house came into view, the word _Kame_ blazoned across it in bold red letters. He heaved a heavy sigh at having to momentarily abandon his fun and act his age. Um...his mental age, anyway.

He landed in the sand and happily skipped across the beach, kicking sand up into the air in little clouds. Then, for no real reason, he started doing cartwheels and singing. Singing very loudly. At the top of his lungs, in fact.

The problem was that Gohan, like his father before him and like most of his friends, had no sense of pitch at all, and his current voice, that Kami awful childish soprano, was strongly reminiscient of nails screeching across a chalkboard. Amplified to full volume, it resulted in a racket that would have made Piccolo gladly rip his ears off.

"Hey!" Krillen called as he came running out of the house, hands clasped tightly over his ears. "What are you doing?!?

Gohan stopped, spun around, and put one hand behind his head in the classic gesture of embarassment embraced by all Son males. He waved sheepishly with his other hand. "Oh...h-hey, Krillen. Sorry 'bout that. What's up?"

Before Krillen could respond, Number Eighteen appeared in the doorway behind him, leading Marron by the hand. "Did you put that animal out of its misery?"

"Eighteen, it was just Gohan," Krillen replied.

The blonde woman didn't miss a beat; she didn't even blink. "So did you put it out of its misery?"

"Hey!" Gohan cried indignantly.

"Tempting, but no," Krillen said with a cheesy grin on his face. "By the way, Gohan, like the hair. It's a definite improvement."

"Goten cut it while I was asleep," the chibi supplied. "Mom wasn't too happy about that."

By now, Yamcha, Master Roshi, and the two shape shifting animals had also appeared, and everyone had converged on the front porch. Roshi leaved heavily on his staff and said, "So did you just stop by to say hello?"

"Actually, I'm looking for my school stuff. I think I left it here when I came by to tell you guys what had happened to me."

"Yeah, we found it. We thought that stuff was yours," Yamcha nodded. "You left it on the beach. We took it inside. Figured you'd be back for it soon enough, if your mother had anything to say about it."

"Mind if I hang out here for a while?" Gohan asked.

"No problem," Roshi replied. After all, it was technically his house!

Marron chose that moment to pull her hand free of her mother's and run down across the beach. She threw her arms around Gohan's neck and gave him a big kiss on the cheek.

While Krillen and Number Eighteen both lost their jaws, Gohan felt all the blood in his body rush to his face, turning it a very bright shade of red. He tried to pry her off as gently as he could, but she wouldn't let go! For a three year old human, she had one HFIL of a grip!

Surprise quickly turned to panic, and Gohan started making little whimpering noises in the back of his throat. Oh, this was _not _happening!

"He's my sweet baboo!" Marron proclaimed happily.

"I am NOT your sweet baboo!" Gohan protested, struggling against the little girl's grasp. (AN: My tribute to one of the great geniuses of our time, Charles Schulz. Snoopy is my hero ^^)

On the porch, most of the adults were laughing their heads off. Yamcha had tears coming out of his eyes. Even Krillen and Eighteen, who had both recovered their lower jaws, were cracking smiles, though they did their very best to appear far less than amused.

Gohan looked at his friends desperately. "Please...help me...get her off...please..."

Of all the people on that island who could have taken pity on Gohan, Eighteen was the one who walked forward and pried her daughter off of Gohan; she scooped up the giggling blonde girl and waited for Gohan's torture to begin.

It did; Krillen walked down onto the beach and stopped right in front of Gohan, arms folded, expression stern. "Gohan, I don't believe it. Are you seducing my daughter, young man?"

Gohan visibly panicked. "No...no way!"

"Oh, so she's not good enough for you, is that it?" Krillen growled, taking a threatening step forward and cracking his knuckles ominously.

"No...I mean, yes...I mean....oh, man..." Gohan stuttered. He knew that there were very few things on Earth that rivaled a father's protectiveness of his daughter, and the chibi felt about ready to either run for his life or burst into tears on the spot.

Suddenly, a huge grin broke on Krillen's face, and he laughed. "You should have seen the look on your face, kid! Man, that was priceless! You thought I was serious!"

Gohan was flooded by undescribable relief. "Whew...I'm gonna get you for that."

"Yeah, right," Yamcha gasped, clutching at his stomach. "Oh man, it hurts!"

"Shut up," Gohan frowned sourly.

"Ah, don't be sore. Come on in," Krillen walked back towards the house, still laughing.

Gohan followed; about two steps away from the porch steps, he turned and looked at Eighteen, who was still standing in the sand, smirking, and Marron, who was still in her mother's arms.

The little blonde girl blew him a kiss.

Gohan swallowed hard and dove into the house.

Marron giggled and leaned her head against her mother's shoulder. "Isn't he the cutest thing?" the little girl said dreamily.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Gohan tried to listen to something Master Roshi was saying, but he didn't really hear it. Not that it mattered. Chances were that whatever was being said wasn't appropriate for his ears anyway.

Instead, his thoughts were wondering, and he had very little control over them. The topic his thoughts chose to dwell on? Videl and the prom situation, of course. No matter how he looked at it, there just wasn't any easy, logical solution to that problem. At least, no answer that would let him go to the dance. He'd already pretty much resigned himself to just not going.

"Hey, bro," Krillen said, snapping his fingers in front of Gohan's blank eyes. "You in there?"

"Huh?" Gohan shook himself from his reverie and blinked at the former monk. "Sorry, I wasn't really listening. Did you say something?"

"Just wanted to know where you were, that's all," Krillen said. "What are you thinking about?"

Gohan sighed. "Prom."

The grin disappeared from Krillen's face. "What about it?"

"It's in less than a month," the chibi said, suddenly hopeful that maybe one of them would have an idea. "I was gonna go with Videl, but...well, I don't think that's gonna happen anymore."

Yamcha let out a low whistle.

"It's okay," Gohan shrugged. "No problem. I'm not much of a dance person anyway."

That was baloney, and they knew it. He wanted to go, but he couldn't, and he was just playing it down so nobody would feel sorry for him. Too late on that count. They already felt bad for him.

Realizing that they were still sending him sympathetic looks, he forced a grin onto his face. "Hey, you have to hear about the prank Goten and Trunks and I pulled yesterday. On Vegeta!"

By the time he finished describing how Vegeta had run around the yard, failing in an attempt to claw his eyes out, the entire room was in stitches.

A short time later, Gohan left, bookbag slung over his shoulder. He paused in the air and waved one more time before taking off.

As the residents of the Kame House turned to leave, the Voice of Doom came from the sky. "There had better not be anything in that bag that's not supposed to be there!" ChiChi's voice warned.

Yamcha swallowed hard. "Oh, man...how does she do that?"

"What do you mean?" Puar asked suspiciously. "What did you put in there?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The sun was setting by the time Gohan landed in his front yard. He had enjoyed his flight back, even if he hadn't been able to dive in the ocean again. His books had already gotten soaked once, and he was pretty sure his mother would attempt to skin him alive for that crime.

He walked inside, and passed the kitchen on his way to his room. "Hey, Mom, I'm back."

"Hi, sweetie. Go study," she said automatically.

With a sigh, Gohan went to obey.

In the safety of his bedroom, he tossed the bookbag on the desk and pulled up his chair. Might as well get something done. Then maybe his mother would let him go outside for a while and play with Goten.

He opened the flap of his bag and reached in. But when he pulled out his Advanced Calculus book (which was in fairly decent condition, considering that during one of his earlier flights to Master Roshi's island it had enjoyed a nice bath in fresh sea water), something else came out with it. Something that didn't belong to Gohan.

Something with some very...um, interesting pictures on the front.

Gohan's eyes grew very wide, and his curiousity grew as well. Unable to help himself, he swallowed hard and started flipping pages. With each new page, his eyes grew wider and wider until he had no face anymore–just two wide, round eyes, goggling at the pictures on the page of this magazine that had appeared in his bookbag.

"Gohan?" ChiChi said from the hallway. "What are you working on?"

With a blink, his eyes returned to their normal size. Thinking fast, he flipped the covers of the magazine together and shoved it into his bag before flinging open the Calculus book and looking at it, as if he'd been studying it the whole time.

His mother opened the door and came in. "Everything all right?"

"Yes, Mom," he said like the good little boy he was pretending to be.

"Let me look at your books," she said. "I want to make sure they're all right, since you so carelessly let them get wet." He tried to protest, but she gave him the evil eye, and he immediately shrank into himself, waiting for the axe to fall.

It fell, but not on him.

"WHAT THE–" ChiChi started to shriek, but she stopped herself. With a deep breath, she managed to calm herself down enough to ask, "What...is...this?" She held up the magazine that Gohan had found so *ahem* fascinating.

"Uh...I have no idea," Gohan improvised. "Never saw that thing before."

ChiChi made a few unintelligable noises under her breath, then said in a voice that was too calm, "Gohan, keep studying, sweetie. I have to run out for a few minutes."

With that, she swept out of the room before Gohan could protest. Seconds later, the front door slammed shut, and the chibi winced. He spun around and looked out the window. Sure enough, she had her prized possession with her, clenched tightly in her hand. The Almighty Frying Pan of Doom and Terror.

__

Kami speed, guys, Gohan thought towards his friends on the island.

As far as Gohan knew, they were doomed. All of them. All of his friends on that island were in terribly grave danger, as they would only discover when it was too late.

ChiChi returned a long while later, long after dark. She looked much happier, and her frying pan had several new dents in it. "There. Taken care of."

AN: Heeheehee...couldn't resist. Next chapter up soon! And hey, thanks to everyone who's sending me all these wonderful ideas for things to put in this story! Trust me, this fic has already gained about eleven chapters, just from suggestions people have given me. Awesome, I love ya all!!!

Next time, on "Once Upon a Chibi," ChiChi forces Gohan and Goten to participate in the most dangerous activity known to males on the planet Earth. You'll see…

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Candyland's Fic Pick:

Title: The Underwear Affair

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Author: Absolut Angel

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Rating: PG-13

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Genre: Humor/Romance

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ID No: 1313804

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Summary: Gohan and Videl's romance…with a twist. Trust me, if you aren't rolling around on the floor with laughter by the end of this one-shot, then there's something wrong with you. Starts right after the Buu saga, when Majin Buu moves in with Hercule, and goes downhill from there. Includes romance, humor, and, of course, chaos. Put it this way: Goten + Trunks + capsulized car + swimming pool…need I say more? Didn't think so. By my powers as the Supreme Overlord of the Word Processer, read this fic!


	13. Shopping with Mom

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AN: Yay! Back! Sorry this took so long. Whew…I had to rearrange few things in my outline. Not fun, believe you me. And to top it all off, I had a grand total of three tests today: one AP English, and two CLEP tests. Brain…short…circuiting… But wow! Over two hundred reviews!!!!! I love you guys!!!! It's weird, 'cause I'm not primarily a humor writer ^^

But anyway, I have to once again offer up my sincere thanks to Angel Wings, who is essentially writing this story ^^ Sometimes I wonder why I don't just let you guys take over…but she gave me an awesome idea that I combined with one of my own thoughts to make the chapter you're about to read. Enjoy! I don't own DBZ, and I don't own any malls or anything.

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Chapter Thirteen—Shopping with Mom

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Forgive, O Lord, my little jokes on Thee

And I'll forgive Thy great big one on me.

-"Forgive, O Lord," by Robert Frost

As the sun rose, its light penetrated the open window and fell across the face of a small child asleep on a bed. The covers were tossed about haphazardly, as though the child had spent a night of very restless slumber.

Beneath the weight of the sunlight, the small face contorted; the eyes squeezed even more tightly shut, and finally, the kid just gave up…and rolled over, so the sun was on his back instead of his face.

Mr. Sun was not very happy about that. He wanted that kid up! So, he moved subtly, allowing his bright rays of light to reflect off a mirror, sending a beam of sunlight to hit the kid right in the face. After a few minutes, the chibi just gave up and allowed himself to be awakened. Satisfied, Mr. Sun resumed his normal movement across the azure sky.

Gohan finally jumped out of bed. Yawning and stretching, he pulled on his standard blue-purple gi and bright red wristbands.

Since he'd been changed back to a kid, that outfit was really all he had to wear. His mother had made a few comments to the effect that she wanted him to wear something other than his "Kami awful training clothes." Fortunately, he'd been able to con Piccolo into zapping him up a fresh outfit whenever he asked. He'd just stuck with the gi because it was comfortable. Truth be told, he was kind of waiting for his mother to do something about it.

Humming cheerfully under his breath, Gohan skipped down the hallway to the kitchen. The smell of breakfast—perfectly grilled pancakes and hot, sizzling bacon—assailed his senses. His inner Saiyan was doing little victory jigs within him at the promise of food.

But as soon as he set foot in the kitchen, his good mood dropped righ tinto his shoes. For starters, his brother was rubbing his head as though it ached. His mother had her prized Frying Pan of Doom and Terror lofted high in one hand, preparing for yet another strike if the need should arise. Her face was drawn back into a tight frown.

"Son Goten," she said in a warning tone of voice, "if I've told you once, I've told you a million times—wait for your brother to get here before you start eating!"

"But I'm hungry!" Goten whined in protest; then his eyes lighted on the chibi in the doorway. "And Gohan is here! Can I eat now?"

ChiChi whirled around; the frying pan disappeared from her hand, having been magically returned to her astral pocket where it could enjoy the company of the rest of her arsenal of machine guns, grenades, bazookas, throwing knives, and spatulas.

Gohan unconsciously let out a sigh of relief at the removal of the Frying Pan of Death. Out of sight, out of mind, right? "Morning, mom."

"Good morning, sweetie…" her voice trailed off as her frown returned. Her eyes followed Gohan like a hawk as he took his seat at the table. "Gohan, why are you wearing that outift again?"

He swallowed hard and looked down at his lap, where he was twiddling his thumbs. "Uh…well…ya see, Mom…"

"Brother's in trouble, brother's in trouble," Goten was singsonging softly across the table.

ChiChi tapped her foot impatiently, and her eyes narrowed. "Well? I'm waiting!"

"I…I actually don't have anything else. I just got Piccolo to zap me up a new one every day," Gohan sighed, bracing himself for what he was sure was coming—namely, a frying pan making hard contact with his skull.

The jarring impact didn't come. Instead, ChiChi sternly said, "Were ever going to tell me about this, young man?"

"Uh…eventualy?" he said hopefully.

After a moment, she sighed. "Well, we'll just have to do something about it. We're going shopping today, as soon as you're done with breakfast."

Gohan stifled a groan. Shopping with his mother—probably the single most dangerous sport known to males on the planet Earth. The chibi remembered the times when as a child (the first time around) when he and his father had been taken on shopping trips with his mother, and the inevitable suffering that had come about as a result of those trips. Like the time those androids had shown up and blown the mall up right under them (AN: The Android 13 movie). Gohan shuddered. Oh, this wasn't looking good.

"Do I have to go too?" Goten asked between shoveling in bites of pancakes and bacon.

ChiChi paused. Taking two children shopping out for clothes was enough to make even the toughest mother cringe. And then when one considered that the two children were the same age, and both half Saiyan…it was enough to make any mother break down and cry. The thought of leaving Goten at home seemed very appealing when viewed under that light. But then she blanched, remembering what her younger son was like. If she left him alone, there was no telling what kind of damage he might cause. In the first ten minutes alone, he would probably manage to devour every ounce of food in the house, set his bed on fire, kill their lawn and half their trees, and open up a doorway to a parallel dimension. Nope, that just wasn't a good idea at all.

"Yes, you do," she said finally.

Goten opened his mouth in preparation for protest, but ChiChi wisely set another plate full of food in front of the chibi. Goten did the only thing a son of Goku could do: he forgot about everything except the promise of edibles that had been laid before him.

Having handled her younger son with a mother's praticed ease, she returned her attention to the older. "Go change into something presentable."

"But…I don't have anything else," Gohan said, the famous 'Son look of confusion' painting itself quite nicely across his face. "Unless you want me to go find Piccolo."

"Borrow something from your brother," ChiChi replied withou missing a beat. "You two are about the same size. It'll be fine."

Gohan and Goten exchanged a look of mild disdain, but knew that any arguments would be futile. Still, the thought of sharing clothes somehow just seemed…wrong.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I can't believe I'm wearing my little brother's clothes," Gohan muttered from his perch on his brother's bed. "I just can't believe it."

Goten looked back over his shoulder. "What do you want, exactly?"

"Something comfortable that fits me," Gohan replied offhandedly.

Goten shrugged and resumed digging through his closet. After a minute, he withdrew and tossed something across the room towards his brother. "Here ya go. Catch!"

Unfortunately, Goten's aim was a little off, and the clothing he had thrown managed to land right on top of Gohan's head. The older brother yanked the clothing off of his head and looked at it. Green pants and a bright yellow shirt.

Gohan's nose wrinkled a little bit. "Uh…maybe you could just loan me a gi?"

Goten let out a dramatic sigh and muttered something about being too picky. Seconds later, something orange and blue went airborne and, as before, landed gracefully on Gohan's head.

"You're doing that on purpose!" Gohan accused loudly from beneath a long sleeved blue shirt.

Goten giggled. "Maybe, maybe—ACK!" He was cut off as he was unceremoniously hit in the face by a flying pillow. When he got back up, he glared across the room at his brother, who was holding another pillow, poised, primed, and ready to strike; there was a demonic glint in Gohan's eye that Goten had come to admire over the past few weeks. Gohan had gone from being a sweet, retractable, obedient teenager to a crafty, pranking demon of a chibi, and Goten had suddenly found himself with a new respect for his brother. According to nearly everyone, Gohan definitely hadn't been like this the first time around!

Smirking, Goten picked up the pillow that had hit him and raised it. "Okay, brother. If that's how you want to play—" He stopped in midsentence as another down filled missile was launched at his head.

Thus, the Great Saturday Morning Pillow Brawl began.

Unfortuantely, the Great Saturday Morning Pillow Brawl was cut rather short. It ended when ChiChi appeared in the room and *ahem* forcibly seperated them. When she exited the room, each of her children was sporting a shiny new lump on his head.

Quickly, Gohan pulled on the gi his little brother had lent him. It was orange and blue, exactly like the one their father had always favored. It was actually a pretty close fit.

The two chibis then engaged in a race down to the kitchen where they hoped to gain the approval of the family matriarch. They managed to raise quite a racket on the way there, and their race ended when one of them tripped over the other and they both ended up somersaulting over each other through the door and landing flat on the floor.

At the clatter that announced their arrival, ChiChi turned a measuring eye on the two boys who were picking themselves up off of the tiled kitchen floor. Once on their feet, they stood side by side, fidgeting nervously beneath her gaze.

Her eyes widened a tiny bit, almost imperceptibly. Her two sons, both exactly the same age and size, wearing exactly the same outfit, peering up at her through two identical pairs of nervous, night colored eyes…well, there were a few words to describe that particular sight.

Unsettling. Unnerving. Disturbing. _Frightening_.

But with the ease of a mother who has seen just about everything, she regained herself and merely nodded. "Good. Much better. Let's go."

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Goten sat on the uncomfortably hard chair and looked around. Seeing nothing much of interest to study, he squirmed in acute discomfort and finally tugged on his mother's sleeve, asking, "Mommy, how much longer do I hafta sit here?"

"When your brother's done," ChiChi replied.

With an aggravated sigh, the chibi folded his arms and pouted. Maybe when he'd wished that Gohan was a kid again, he should have wished that Gohan's wardrobe came back too. Then he wouldn't be stuck here in this mess.

The fitting room door opened, and a mountain of clothing appeared, supported by two short legs. Gohan's face was entirely obscured by the enormous stack of garments he was carrying. "Uh, Mom? Is all this really necessary for just a couple months?"

"Yes," she said shortly. "We'll just give them to Goten when we wish you back to your normal age." Goten rolled his eyes at this, but she proved quite adept at ignoring him. "So all of these work?"

"Yup," Gohan answered, though his voice was very muffled because of the clothing he was holding. The most surprising thing about this day so far was that his mother hadn't made very many protests about him looking almost exclusively at gis. Not that he'd have much occasion to wear much of anything else, really. But as per his mother's wishes, he was also investing in a couple of nice outfits too.

While his mother was busily getting things rung up at the cash register, Gohan found himself floating in the same boat as his brother: extreme and utter boredom. And ChiChi didn't seem to be paying much attention to them…

As though they were reading each other's minds, both chibis grinned.

But Gohan briefly resisted. What was happening to him? He'd never been one to misbehave! Never! And yet here he was, a month into his imprisonment in his childhood body, and he'd done nothing but get in trouble. It was as if the state of his body was actually leaking into his head and poisoning his mind. And he'd already had several warnings from both his mother and Vegeta with regards to his sudden knack for pranking. If he did it again, he would die a horribly painful death at the hands of ki blasts and frying pans, and he would never be himself again.

Aw, what was life without a little risk?

No fun, that was what.

Carefully, silently, the two children tiptoed away from their mother in search of trouble and adventure. What adventure there was to be found at the West City shopping mall, they didn't exactly know. But hey, they were half Saiyan. If they couldn't find adventure, they would just have to make some. And they knew for sure that such a place as a mall packed with people on a Saturday afternoon provided plenty of opportunities to cause and encourage mischief and mayhem.

The two sneaky chibis snuck out of the store into the wide, high ceilinged corrider from which the dozens and dozens of stores sprouted. There were literally hundreds of people milling around, mostly adults and teenagers. Gohan saw a few people he recognized from his school—girls, mostly.

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Please don't let them notice me…please don't let them notice me… he prayed silently, hoping that Dende would decide to pay attention for once. He remembered how the female members of his class had reacted to the sudden appearance of a chibi in their midst, and it was not an experience he cared to repeat. In fact, he had a sneaking suspicion that only his quick departure had saved him from a swarm of huggers, kissers, and cheek pinchers.

Surprisingly, although a few of them shot him glances that quite clearly read 'awww, how cute,' none of them approached him and his brother as they walked around the mall in search of trouble.

Just when Gohan thought that it was safe, he heard…_her._

"Ohmigosh!" a familiar voice said in a high pitched squeal. Before he knew what was happening, two arms had thrown themselves around his neck and squeezed. After a quick second, he realized exactly who it was.

Erasa.

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Uh oh… he thought, pulling a little bit against the girl's grip.

"Oh brother," Sharpner said from behind her. Damn. They were both here.

"Aren't you just the cutest thing I've ever seen?!? Yes you are!" Erasa all but shrieked, making Gohan's Saiyan bred ears start ringing like telephones. She proceeded to nearly strangle him while speaking in absurd baby talk, while Goten was rolling around on the ground nearby, laughing his head off at the misfortunes of his brother.

__

Someone kill me…please… Gohan thought offhandedly. At the same time, though, he was trying to figure out a way he could kill his brother, and make it look enough like an accident to let him get away with it. Jail time was not on his agenda.

*Is that an invitation?* a mental reply came, much to his surprise.

He blinked in surprise. *Videl?*

*The one and only,* she chuckled in his mind. *Long time, no see. Erasa and Sharpner dragged me shopping for pr—for some stuff.* Even now, she was still upset. *So…did you want some help, or would you rather I just let Erasa go on?*

*HELP!* Gohan yelped as the bubbly blonde tightened her grip on him.

*Okay, okay, you big baby,* she heaved an exaggerated mental sigh. *And I mean big baby in the most literal sense, of course—*

*Just get her off me!*

"Oh, hi, Goten!" Videl said, stepping out from behind Sharpner and knelt down to the level of the hysterical chibi. "Is this your cousin?" Goten blinked at her in confusion. "You know, your cousin. The one Gohan said was coming to visit." She subtly moved her head in Gohan's direction and winked.

Goten suddenly caught on. "Oh yeah! This is my cousin!"

"Aww! You're Gohan's cousin!" Erasa twittered.

"Uh, yeah," Gohan improvised. "Could you let me breathe please?"

To his surprise, she actually let him go.

He spun around and refrained from coughing and gagging. At last, he could breathe air that wasn't laden with overpriced perfume! Hemanaged to keep some semblance of self control, and turned to his brother…er, _cousin_, and said, "Hey, Goten, we'd better go find Mom."

Goten nodded. "Yeah, probably. Gotta go!"

"I think I'll take you two back," Videl said with a raised eyebrow. Then she turned to Sharpner and Erasa. "I'll catch up with you two after I get these two returned to their parental escorts. We don't want two little kids wandering the mall alone, do we?"

Erasa started gushing again, and Sharpner rolled his eyes.

"Bye!" Goten waved cheerfully as the two blondes disappeared into the crowd. Then he looked up at his 'big sister' in confusion. "Why did you say my brother was my cousin?"

"Because somehow, I didn't think Gohan wanted the whole school to know that he's seven again," Videl said matter of factly. "Thought that might cause a few problems."

"Oh. You're so smart!" Goten said happily.

She laughed. "Don't you forget it!"

"Come on, we'd better go find Mom before she decides to blow a gasket…or her stack…or the whole mall…" Gohan's voice drooped as he envisioned his enraged mother detonating the West City mall in search of her two missing sons. Maybe sneaking off hadn't been a good idea after all.

"Don't worry about it," Videl said calmly. "Let's go."

With the boys' ki sensing abilities, it didn't take them long to find ChiChi. She was standing in the middle of the mall, looking around frantically. When her eyes fell on the children being led by Videl, rage and relief began warring for control of her face. Relief won out at first, and she dove to the ground and threw her arms around the kids. "Oh, I was so worried!"

Then rage took over, and she growled, "If you ever do that again…what were you thinking?!?"

"Oh, they were looking for me," Videl said. When ChiChi looked up, the teenager continued. "Gohan said they sensed me, and they came to see where I was. That was all."

Gohan felt his jaw threatening to drop off of his face. Videl was actually covering for him?!?

"Is this true?" she asked Goten.

"Yes, Mommy," Goten said, turning on the puppy dog eyes and letting his chin quiver _ever_ so slightly. "You were busy…and we didn't think we'd be gone very long…"

Not even ChiChi could resist that, and she sighed. "All right, you're forgiven. Just don't do it again, all right?"

The two brothers nodded fervently, exchanging a victorious look when their mother wasn't looking. Had they lucked out or what?

As they waved goodbye to Videl and went off to shop some more (for their mother this time, of course), a voice popped into Gohan's mind.

*You owe me, Son Gohan. You owe me big.*

He groaned. *I don't even want to know what you're thinking.*

A charming mental eye roll.

In spite of himself, Gohan smiled slightly. That psychiatrist had been totally wrong. That voice in his head was real, gosh darn it!

With that happy thought chasing its tail in his head, he allowed himself to be dragged off towards his inevitable doom—shopping with his mother.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I'm so tired…" Goten whined. He was sprawled out haphazardly across the floor in his brother's room. The floor was the only option, since Gohan had already occupied his bed.

"You're the youngest Super Saiyan in the history of the race, you can face the toughest training sessions imaginable, take ki blasts thrown by someone like Vegeta or Piccolo, and handle being thwapped by Mom's frying pan, but you can't handle shopping?" Gohan asked incredulously.

"You don't have any room to talk," Goten protested. "You're dead too!"

"Guilty," Gohan sighed. "So…I think tomorrow we're gonna go over to Capsule Corp, okay?"

Goten lifted his head. "Why?"

Though Goten couldn't see it, a devious little smirk crossed Gohan's face. "I think we've left Vegeta alone for too long. Time to disturb the peace."

AN: See? A nice long chappie to make up for the wait. This is the longest chapter I've posted in this story thus far. I feel bad when I don't update regularly, 'cause it's my pet peeve when people don't update for months. I don't like waiting to find out what happens!!

Also, guess what, everybody? I got a job. Translation: less writing time. My updates might become a little less frequent, but please bear with me, kay? Love y'all!

Next chapter: Gohan, Goten, and Trunks go head to head against our favorite Saiyan Prince as the pranking resumes! Heeheehee…I enjoy being evil. And fear not, dear friends. The prom is coming up in a few chapters. Just a couple things that have to be done first. Bear with me, we're getting there!

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Candyland Fic Pick:

Title: Fragile Tough Girl

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Author: gerry's giant green grassmonkey

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Rating: PG-13

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Genre: Romance/Drama

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ID No: 1101656

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Summary: Hercule's found the girl of his dreams, and Videl is NOT happy about. In the meantime, she's got to deal with people at school—especially a certain *ahem* someone, who is ever an enigma. Gohan's acting really weird in this story, but the author swears that there's a reason behind it, so I'm being patient. I just wish she would UPDATE!!!


	14. The Prank, Part II

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AN: *sigh* Sorry my updates have been slowing down. I just haven't been in much of a writing mood lately. Plus, what started off as a long list of gags to be employed for this story has started to dwindle. So I'm trying to keep going and keep it funny. After all, I'm not primarily a humor writer. This gets tough after a while!!! But anyway, I'm okay with that now. On we go with the fic. I don't own DBZ.

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Chapter Fourteen—The Prank, Part II

As before, the battery powered candles offered the only light in the small room. The three diminuitive figures were once again standing around the table. But this time, the scene was just a little bit different then before.

Two of the chibis had the dark green robes on as before, but their hoods were pushed back, letting the faint glow fall directly across their faces. They were looking at the third child, who did not have a robe. This kid was essentially pouting, with arms folded and lower lip sticking out for miles.

"Come on, Trunks, we have to figure out a plan," Gohan coaxed gently.

Trunks, the robeless chibi, turned his nose into the air in a continuation of his pouting. "No. Not till he says sorry."

"It was an accident!" Goten protested loudly, but in vain.

"You set me on fire!" Trunks snarled angrily.

"There was a spider on your back! I killed it for you!"

"It doesn't take a ki blast to kill a friggin' spider!"

"Calm down, you two!" Gohan said loudly, his inner peacekeeper coming to the front with a bound. With very little regard for his own personal safety as a seven year old faced with two Super Saiyan half pints, he dove between his little brother and his little brother's best friend. "Guys, get a grip!"

For a long minute, the Goten and Trunks sandwiched Gohan between them, each struggling to grasp the other—most likely to engage in some first class neck wringing. But after that plan failed, they both stopped. Grudgingly, the two angry chibis seperated, glaring daggers at each other.

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Dumb moron, Trunks thought.

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Ungrateful jerk, Goten glowered.

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Damn kids, Gohan sighed. Then he watched impatiently as the other two children resumed their spots around the table. "Can we get on with it?"

Still scowling at each other with surprisingly Vegeta like expressions, Goten and Trunks nodded.

"Okay, let's get to it," Gohan smirked. "We must continue with Phase Two of our Super Amazing Wonderful Groovy Cool Awesome Plan."

With the promise of a monster prank in front of them, Goten and Trunks forgot their anger towards each other and flashed smirks worthy of Piccolo and Vegeta.

This was going to be fun.

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Gohan clutched at the shoebox; from beneath the cardboard lid, the sound of something moving could be heard. Behind him, Goten and Trunks were also clutching at their prizes, though Trunks' was far too big to fit into a mere shoebox. So the chibi had made do with slinging it over his shoulder and hoping to every god in the heavens that no one saw him.

"Let's go," Gohan whispered. The children tiptoed down the long, winding hallways of Capsule Corporation, heading for a very specific room.

Outside the doorway of this very specific room, they paused and let their Saiyan ears do a little bit of work. Namely, they listened for the sound of movement inside. Sure enough, someone was in there. A quick ki check proved it to be Bulma. And the sound of keys jangling around, Gohan was able to deduce that she was either going somewhere in a car, or going to her lab, which was usually kept locked.

But hey, one wasn't a longtime friend of Bulma Briefs without learning a few things. Being a genius himself, Gohan had been summoned to the lab many a time. So of course he knew exactly where the keys were. In the state he was currently in, he realized that knowledge such as that could possibly prove to be quite useful, given the right circumstances.

As Bulma's footsteps retreated from the kitchen, Gohan turned and waved an arm, gesturing for his partners in crime to follow. Together, the terrible trio tiptoed into the kitchen. (AN: Kami bless alliteration!) Sure enough, the room was vacant.

They'd had to time this perfectly to ensure that both the setup and the execution of their Unbelievably Amazingly Astonishingly Cool Plan went well. They knew the schedule by heart. At exactly the same time every single day, Vegeta would become hungry, and storm from the Gravity Room into the kitchen in search of sustenance for his mighty Saiyan appetite.

Only today, the proud Prince of all Saiyans was going to get a very, _very_ unpleasant surprise when he came in to inhale his midday meal. And, as their Super-de-duper Wonderful Big Fat Hairy Plan dictated, they would be waiting with all of the appropriate equipment for capturing such a moment for future generations and future blackmail.

Hey, you do what you have to do when survival is on the line. And besides, they knew a few people who would pay dearly for hard, physical evidence of a moment like they were about to capture.

Each of them grinning to himself, Gohan, Goten, and Trunks set about preparing for what was certain to be an extremely interesting moment in their short lives.

And their timing was indeed perfect. Just as they had finished putting everything in place (including the one Trunks had been carrying—getting that thing where it needed to be had been no small task because of its size), they heard the familiar sound of a door slamming and the usual bellow echoing up and down the hallways. But that was just Vegeta for you. He was physically incapable of entering a room or building without making enough noise to be absolutely certain that every single person residing therein knew that the mighty Saiyan was indoors.

Hey, everyone has their little habits. Some are just a little more annoying than others.

Snickering, the three devilish chibis tiptoed off to watch and await the arrival of their victim.

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Vegeta stormed through the halls of his domain. He was hungry, especially after a hard morning of training. After all, that was what he always did, just like Piccolo was always meditating. Again, everyone has their little habits. But at least they were both fairly consistant.

No one bothered him on his trek to the kitchen, which was just as well. Dealing with the man of the house had long ago become a standard part of the basic training undergone by all employees of Capsule Corporation, be they business or domestic. Essentially, they were given the message in a manner that even the thickest person would be able to understand: when possible, AVOID THE GUY!!! When not possible to avoid him, be as quiet as possible, and pray. A lot.

Marching into the kitchen (of course, making a lot of noise to announce his arrival, just in case there was someone in there), he paused a moment, looking around.

One gloved finger tapped thoughtfully at his chin. "What to eat, what to eat…as long as it's nothing the woman made, I should survive."

Apparently deciding something, he strolled across the room to the enormous refrigerator, installed long ago for the simple purpose of storing enough food to satisfy the appetites of the numerous Saiyans in Bulma's life. It had to be restocked every two days or so. He gripped the metal handle and flung the refrigerator door wide open with the intent of finding something remotely edible therein.

And jumped about ten feet backwards, letting out a high pitched yelp. Then he clasped his hands over his mouth, hoping to every god in the heavens that no one had heard that charming little noise. Then he continued backing up until he felt his leg bump against something. Turning, he saw that the something he'd bumped into was a kitchen chair. Making a quick decision, he jumped on the chair and then stared at the refrigerator that was mere yards away.

The refrigerator had snakes crawling over it. Varying in size from about a foot long to something that looked like it was probably longer than Vegeta was tall, they were happily slithering around, all over…the…food…

A sob rose in the back of Vegeta's throat at what he perceived to be the contamination of any and all things edible that may or may not have been residing within that refrigerator. That sob, though, quickly turned to a scream (which he forcibly swallowed) as the snakes began creeping out of the fridge and along the floor towards him—or rather, the chair he was so conveniently standing on.

It was time to face the facts: Vegeta, the proud, mighty Prince of all Saiyans, did NOT like snakes. Not one little bit. Things that could move that fast without legs? That just wasn't right! And now, what looked like a small army's worth of the damned things were slithering across the floor towards him. Nope, not a good situation at all.

Then reason decided to come back from an extended coffee break and check back in for work. He was standing on a chair, afraid of a few little (or not so little) snakes? No way. There was something seriously, seriously wrong with this picture. What the hell was wrong with him.

With reality, his sense decided to start working again. And he noticed something strange. Namely, a clicking noise that seemed to be originating from somewhere near the doorway. Along with the clicking noise was what sounded an awful lot like giggling.

His head whipped around. Standing in the door were three small people. Namely, his brat and the two brats of the accursed Kakarott. No sign of anything that could have made the clicking noise, but definitely a source for the laughter.

But before he could do anything—start a tirade, kill the damn brats, anything!—Bulma came flying into the room. "Vegeta, what—AAAH!" The sentence ended in a scream as she noticed the snakes crawling all over the floor. Then she reacted in a way completely befitting one of the wealthiest, most intelligent people in the world.

She let out a screech capable of shattering glass, and leapt a full five feet into the air to land quite neatly in Vegeta's arms, still screaming. The sound was enough to make Vegeta want to rip his ears off. Unfortunately, unlike Piccolo, he had not been blessed with the ability to regenerate. So tearing his ears off of his head probably wasn't the best plan.

Suddenly, Bulma seemed to realize the position she had suddenly found herself in. Namely, being supported by Vegeta's arms. He coughed, face turning slightly pink from embarassment.

Then he heard that infernal clicking noise again, and his head snapped to glare at the three demon spawns who called themselves children, still laughing their heads off in the doorway. But there was no sign of anything that could have been responsible for that stupid clicking sound.

Bulma's blue eyes followed Vegeta's stare. And, like the genius she was, she put two and two together, and got another number. All in her head, without a calculator. After managing to reaffirm her mental math abilities, she set about figuring out exactly what was going on.

"Trunks," she said in a voice cold enough to turn water into ice, "you are going to remove those things from my kitchen, or I solemnly swear, by all that is holy, you will regret it."

"Can I kill him?" Vegeta actually pleaded. "Pretty please?"

"No!" she admonished him before returning her attention to her son. "No, unless he doesn't have those things out of my house in under five seconds. And that goes for you, too, Gohan and Goten."

The huge grin disappeared from the child's face, along with the faces of his two partners in terror. All three of them swallowed hard, and invoked Saiyan speed to do as Bulma had commanded. And luckily, they had Saiyan speed, considering they had five seconds.

Fortunately, four and a half seconds after Bulma made her threat, the snakes had vanished from the kitchen floor, relocated to parts unknown to all but the children.

Unfortunately, with the snakes gone, there was nothing to keep Vegeta on that chair. And the Saiyan realized it. He climbed down, set Bulma down with a surprising amount of caution, and then turned on the children. An evil smirk crossed his face, and he cracked his knuckles menacingly.

"Vegeta, wait," Bulma said suddenly, surprising everyone. "I have a much better idea for a fitting punishment for these three little trouble makers."

The Saiyan Prince turned to glance back over his shoulder at his mate. The look he gave her was more inquisitive than angry, as though he was waiting to find out exactly what she had in mind.

The look on Bulma's face rivaled Vegeta's for unholy glee. Whatever she was planning, it had to be good. "I'm going to call ChiChi and turn them over to her."

Surprisingly, Vegeta didn't argue. In fact, the smirk on his face only grew wider.

Bulma picked up the phone. "Go out into the living room, you three. Gohan, your mother will be here shortly, I promise. Just get comfortable."

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I thought the courts outlawed cruel and unusual punishment, Gohan thought mournfully as he trudged a short way down the hall into one of the buildings many sitting rooms. He closed the door behind him and took a seat on an overstuffed sofa of dubious comfort.

"So, did you get 'em?" Trunks asked in an excited whisper to ensure that no ears, be they human or Saiyan, would be able to hear him.

Gohan grinned broadly, and fished into the pocket of his gi. From there, he withdrew the source of the clicking sounds that had so plagued Vegeta throughout his ordeal—a small camera, film loaded with shots that would be absolutely perfect for future blackmail.

"Awesome!" Goten smiled; then his smile faded. "But we're gonna die in a few minutes."

The three chibis sat in relative silence, waiting for their doom to arrive. All three cringed when the doorbell rang. And minutes later, the door to the living room opened.

ChiChi tapped her frying pan against her upturned palm and narrowed her eyes at the terrible trio of children. "Well, well, well…what do we have here?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Gohan sighed happily as he closed the book on his lap. Night had fallen quite some time ago, and the outside world was dark. Inside the little house, it was bright and cozy.

Inside one such bright and cozy room, two small children were enjoying a quiet time of taking turns telling each other stories before they followed the sun's example and took to their beds.

"This is awesome," Goten exclaimed after Gohan had finished telling a particularly interesting tale. "I like having a brother my age, even if we fight more."

Gohan grinned. "Well, it's actually a lot more fun than I thought it would be. But I think that when the Dragonballs become usable again, I'm still going to find them and get myself wished back to normal. Being a kid is great, but it would be easier if I didn't have an eighteen year old's mind."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," Goten nodded his understanding.

"Okay, you two, time for bed," ChiChi appeared in the doorway. She had calmed down quite a bit since they'd returned home from their excursions of the afternoon. All things considered, facing her wrath for the prank they had played on Vegeta seemed a small price to pay, considering that now Gohan had several lovely photographs from the pranks. The first ones consisted of Vegeta running all over the Capsule Corporation gardens and rolling around on the ground, trying to claw his eyes out. The others portrayed the proud Saiyan Prince standing on a chair, screaming his head off as snakes crawled out of a refrigerator and inched across the floor towards him.

Gohan had every intention of using both for future blackmail as the need should arise. He also had every intention of seeing exactly how many such blackmail shots he could drag out of the mighty Saiyan warrior before he was returned to his normal eighteen year old self. Because when he was officially eighteen again, such childish things as pranks would once again be forbidden to him.

Still, like the child he currently was, he obeyed, not wanting to invoke his mother's anger again. He scurried across the hall into his own room and hopped into bed, snuggling down under the covers. A minute later, his mother appeared in the doorway.

"Good night, you little demon child," she said with a mock scowl on her face.

He smiled. "G'night, mom!"

She clicked off the lights and pulled the door closed.

Gohan pulled the blanket up to his chin and sighed happily. In light of the day's events, he was exhausted, and sleep seemed like a very good idea.

But just as his eyes were falling closed, a thought struck him. So sudden and urgent was this notion that he actually sat straight up in bed. The blanket fell from his shoulders to pile around his waist. He blinked into the darkness, trying to figure out what the problem was.

Across the room, his bedroom door creaked open, and a little voice called to him. "Gohan?"

"Yeah, squirt?"

Goten tiptoed into the room and slowly pushed the door closed so it wouldn't make a sound. Then he sneaked across the room to stand by his brother's bed. "Gohan, something's wrong."

"Yeah, I know," Gohan nodded. "It feels like something just hasn't been right about the last couple of days. But I just can't put my finger on it…"

"That's what I thought," Goten said fervently.

"You two had better be in bed up there!" ChiChi's voice sprang from nowhere.

Both boys jumped at the sudden noise. They blinked owlishly at each other, then said, in perfect unison, "How does she do that?"

Then, they both stopped. After a moment, both Gohan and Goten smiled. "That was it!"

The problem solved, Goten proceeded to tiptoe back across the room and sneak out, presumably to return to the haven of his own bedroom.

Gohan flopped back down onto his pillow and once again pulled his blanket up tightly around him. A smile crossed his face. That was what the problem was; that was what had felt so off about the past couple of days. Things just hadn't been the same. But luckily, it had been remedied.

The Voice of Doom had returned.

AN: Hey, I am working now, so updates are gonna be a little less scheduled and probably a little less frequent. But I won't leave ya hanging! Promise. And I know the pranks are really weird, but I'm going for creativity, not realism. Besides, gotta have some fun with Veggie. ^-^

BTW, in case anyone cares, prom was FANTASTIQUE!!! I got hypnotized at the after-prom party. I really don't remember it, but according to my friends, I drove a Cadillac/motorcycle/horse, sang "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," danced like John Travolta from "Saturday Night Fever" (and supposedly, I'm very good at it *sweatdrop*), became incapable of counting to ten on my fingers, and forgot both the alphabet after the letter L and my own first name. Yikes. I got home at six in the morning, got four hours of sleep, and then had to go up to the school for a band/choir competition. …zzzz…

Next time, on "Once Upon a Chibi," Gohan reunites with an old friend. And I finally bring Hannah back! She's one of the very few original characters I've ever written into fics as a major player, and she's the coolest old lady in the fanfic world! Of course, I might be a little bit biased…but she's still cool.

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Candyland's Fic Pick:

Title: The Fellowship of the Onion Rings

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Author: Afrodite

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Rating: PG-13

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Genre: Humor/Parody

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ID No: 1195943

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Summary: There's a hot new restaurant in town, with Goku, Vegeta, Trunks, and Piccolo as its best customers. But what happens when the place runs out of its famous onion rings? Why, our heroes go on a quest to find them, of course! You'll laugh hard enough to cry. Scout's honor.


	15. Dragon Tales

AN: *blink* *blink* Hello? Is anyone still out there? Hello? Okay, good. I apologize for the delay in the updating. Truthfully, it's been a cross between not having time, and not being motivated. But here we are, with a brand, spankin' new chapter, featuring an event that many people have said they would like to see happen in this little tale o' mine.

And plus, guess what? Hannah's back! For those of you who don't know or don't remember, Hannah is an original character of mine. She is the housekeeper at the Satan mansion, Videl's surrogate mother, and one awesome old lady. You'll like her. Promise.

Anyway, I don't own DBZ. Shucks.

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Chapter Fifteen–Dragon Tales

"Hmm...I could have sworn he lived around here somewhere..." Gohan murmured, his eyes scanning the landscape below.

He was searching for an old friend, someone he hadn't seen in ages. By all accounts, this friend shouldn't have been this difficult to find. But he just couldn't locate the being he was so carefully seeking.

The forest below him was a seemingly endless sea of green leaves with very few breaks in the foliage. And for the life of him, Gohan couldn't see through it. Finally, he gave up and swept down, breaking through the canopy and landing easily in the middle of the forest.

Frowning, the chibi peered around, trying to look through the trees for his elusive quarry. Unfortunately, he had not been blessed with X-ray vision, so it wasn't possible for him to look through the trees. But Gohan wasn't about to give up. Not yet, anyway.

The sound of a twig snapping nearby reached his ears, and he whirled around to face the sound. There was something out there. Something nearby, just out of sight in those bushes over there.

Gohan could almost hear the theme song from Jaws playing in the background. Truthfully, the moment had all the makings of a great shot from a horror film. Suddenly, the shadows cast by the trees seemed longer, darker, and far more menacing. And suddenly, Gohan felt an awful lot like the seven year old he appeared to be.

Then he shook himself from the fearful stupor he had managed to lapse into, and mentally smacked himself upside the head. _Get a freakin' grip! What's it gonna do to you, whatever it is? You're Saiyan, for crying out loud! Just beat it up!_

He lowered himself inot a defensive stance in preparation for a fight with whatever monster was about to come running at him. It was still there; he could hear the foliage rustling.

Suddenly, a blur came and hit Gohan head on.

From behind.

The chibi went flying headfirst and face first into the dirt floor of the forest. The thing that had hit him, something heavy and large, ended up sitting on his back.

"Ack!" Gohan yelped as he pulled his face out of the dirty and spat out a generous mouthful of sod, leaves, and twigs. Then he looked towards the bushes he had been studying so carefully. There was still a rustling sound coming from them.

Two squirrels jumped out of the bush and scampered off, headed for parts unknown.

Gohan groaned; then his attention was returned to the being sitting heavily on his back, slowly pushing him further and further down into the dirt. There was already a healthy imprint of the small body in the earth, and it was slowly but surely getting deeper.

And as far as Gohan was concerned, getting buried alive was not an option.

It didn't take but a small exercise of his Saiyan strength to relieve himself of the unwanted burden. Ki was such a wonderful tool for sending objects into flight. He heard whatever it was hit the ground nearby with a loud, heavy thump. A very heavy thump. A very, _very_ heavy thump. A very, very, _very_ heavy thump. A very, very…ah, you get the idea.

Once the ground had stopped shaking from the thing's imprompt landing, Gohan jumped to his feet and whirled around, dropping reflexively into a flawless stance. But he relaxed the instant he realized who—or rather, what—he was face to face with.

"Icarus!" he cried joyfully, lunging forward and throwing his arms around the dragon's lavender-scaled neck. "It's great to see you again!"

The thing was that when Gohan grabbed his friend's neck, he had to jump several feet in the air. His faithful friend, good ol' Haiya Dragon, was now more than twice as tall as Gohan was at his current size. Compared to when Gohan had first met him, right now, the dragon was _huge_!

"It really has been a long time," Gohan muttered, dangling precariously from the dragon's neck. Then Icarus dipped his head until Gohan's feet touched the ground, and the chibi let go, landing easily.

The dragon kept his head lowered, though, and gestured coaxingly with one yellow claw towards its back while looking entreatingly at Gohan.

After a few seconds, it clicked. "You want me to get on your back?" the chibi asked, a look of sheer and utter delight crossing his young face. When Icarus bobbed his head up and down in affirmation, Gohan laughed and scrambled up onto the dragon's back—yet another reminder of just how much time had passed since he had last visited his childhood friend. "All right! Let's go!"

With no further ado, Icarus spread his now-long, yellow wings and shot joyfully into the azure sky, carrying a thoroughly happy child on his back.

It felt like they spent hours up in the sky, racing and flying together, just like in the old days of Gohan's first time through childhood. Gohan also made sure to fill his friend in on everything that had happened lately, from Goten's wish to the pranks on Vegeta. The dragon had seemed to share Gohan's sadness at the story of his predicament with Videl and the prom, but had perked back up when Gohan suggested another race. By the time Gohan professed exhaustion, the sun was just beginning its downward trek across the sky, towards the horizon.

"Whew!" Gohan wiped perspiration from his forehead with the back of his hand. Having fun was hard work! "I'll stop by again soon, and we can play again. Promise."

Just then, the Voice of Doom came echoing across the heavens. Thunder crashed and lightning flared in its wake. Gohan just groaned.

"Son Gohan, come home right now! Who knows what kind of germs that dragon has?"

Gohan shook his head. "Not again!"

Then he noticed that Icarus had also reacted to the appearance of the disembodied Voice of Doom. The dragon had his head cocked to one side, and was regarding Gohan with a certain degree of confusion; the look seemed to say, "How does she do that?"

"I have no idea," Gohan shrugged.

Apparently satisfied with the explanation (or lack thereof), the dragon's expression changed then, to the look of someone who had just been mortally insulted.

The demi-Saiyan giggled. "Don't worry. I know you're not diseased." He turned. "But I'd better go before I get in trouble. See you soon!"

With a wave, he shot off towards home, leaving his childhood friend behind.

It didn't take long for the little house in the moutains to come into view. Gohan swooped down a little closer, but didn't land right away. He did little circles in the air, trying to burn off a little energy. But finally, he zoomed in and managed a masterful two and a half somersault landing. Goten, who was watching from the front door, applauded.

As he scurried up to his room, Gohan called towards the kitchen to let his mother know that he was home, lest she come after him later for not alerting her to his presence. With the warden alerted, he darted into the safety of his bedroom and closed the door behind him. If he could get a little studying done before dinner, maybe his mother would let him go outside later.

Hey, he could always dream, right?

As he plopped down at his desk, his eyes habitually wandered the the calender hanging on the wall. He zeroed in on the date.

And his heart dropped, right down into his shoes. His good mood went straight out the window, along with any motivation he might possibly have had for his studies.

He hadn't even realized it. He hadn't realized what the date was.

The prom was tomorrow night.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Videl?" the older woman said from the doorway.

No answer came from the closet, where the teenager was currently invisible beneath a moutain of clothes and the like. Quite frankly, it just wasn't normal for the young Miss Satan to even be digging around in her closet. She just wasn't the kind of girl who fretted over her outfits.

"Videl?"

"Where the HFIL is it?" an aggravated voice finally came in response, and Hannah couldn't help but smile. She'd seen Videl through nearly every stage children and teenagers were prone to go through, and now she would see her "daughter" through the prom as well.

Finally, the raven-haired teen emerged from the depths of her closet, though she still wasn't exactly visible. Her face was obscured behind the pile of dress, shoes, etc., in her arms; she quite unceremoniously dumped the pile on one side of the bed and flopped down on her stomach beside it.

Hannah sauntered into the room and looked over the jumbled heap of prom-wear thrown haphazardly about. Then she turned a measuring eye on her young friend. "I'm glad to see you've taken an interest in what you wear."

A muffled response came, one that sounded vaguely like Videl was saying, "Shaddup."

Sighing with an almost unfailing good nature, Hannah picked up the red dress and laid it carefully over the back of the chair. "I take it you're still upset over the fact that Gohan can't go."

"Understatement."

Hannah sighed again. "Well, if what you told me is true, then it's not exactly his fault, now is it?"

"It still sucks."

"So does everything. Welcome to Life. I'll be your hostess."

"You're not funny."

"Actually, I've been told that I'm quite the crack-up."

"Leave me alone."

"You're pouting."

"So what?"

"Knock it off."

"Make me."

"What are we doing with your hair?"

"I'm not going."

"Yes, you are."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

Hannah stopped then. "Videl, what about those other two friends of yours? Sharpner and Erasa, right? Weren't you going to be going with them?"

"Yeah."

"So you can still have a good time. You're going, and that's that."

"Make me," Videl said again in an echo of her earlier sentiment. She propped herself up on her elbows and regarded the Satan family housekeeper with an icy look.

"Fine, I will," Hannah proclaimed, returning the teenager's glare with an unmatched calm. "I will force you into that dress, and I'll tie you down so I can do your hair and makeup, and then I'll drag you out to the limo kicking and screaming. Normally, I'd threaten to do this by holding onto your hair, but I guess that won't work in this case, so I'll figure something else out. Then I'll sit there and force feed you dinner, ride to the dance with you, drag you into the dance, and I will personally escort you onto the dance floor and tie you to the first boy that walks past."

By this point, the absurdity had even gotten through Videl's bad mood, and the teenager was laughing. "Well, if you put it that way…"

"Videl, you need to go, with or without Gohan. And besides," Hannah pointed out with a logic that came from years of experience. She had long ago figured out how to decipher exactly what Videl needed to hear. "How do you think Gohan feels? I'd wager he feels worse about it than you do."

Judging from the look on Videl's face, the thought hadn't occurred to her. Finally, the young woman sighed, albeit unahppily. "All right, okay, you win. I'll go. But I won't have a good time."

Hannah smiled victoriously, fully aware that the victory was a small one. After all, you could lead a horse to water—or as the case was, a dance—but you couldn't make him—or in this case, her—drink.

AN: Next chapter, the prom begins! The whole prom thing is going to be a two parter—i.e., two chapters. Hopefully, I'll get them done a lot faster than I got this one up. Sorry it's kinda short, but I'm really pressed for time. Also, Hannah's gonna be making fairly regular appearances from here on out—at least, I think she will. You'll get a better look at her character too, since this chapter wasn't a very good example of Hannah being the cool old lady she is ^-^ Thanks a million times over to my wonderful, amazing, awesome, fantastic reviewers! And thanks a mil to everyone who's been shipping me ideas for additional chapters. Thanks to you guys, this story is growing. It should be substantially longer than I originally planned it to be. Until next time, amigos, ciao!

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Candyland's Fic Pick:

Title: Pencil Sketches of an Angel

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Author: Swiss Army Knife

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Rating: PG

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Genre: Angst/Romance

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ID No: 1187737

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Summary: This was the first K/18 fic I ever read. 18 finds something, one of Krillen's little secrets. Trust me, even if you don't normally read K/18 stories, this one is bordering on magical. Actually, read any of Swiss Army Knife's stuff. He writes mostly about Krillen, and he's got a great perspective on things. You won't be disappointed.


	16. The Big Day

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AN: Hi, everybody!!!!!! *waves enthusiastically* *everyone backs away in apprehension* Anyway, we're here with Chapter 16!!!! Hooray!!!! And guess what else? I'm registered for college!!! Joy of joys, treat of treats, etc., etc. Not to mention my new laptop…*sigh* I'm in heaven. But enough about that, on with the new chapter! Here, we're going to see a little more of Hannah. I promise she's going to be in this story a few more times. Onwards we go! I do NOT own Dragonball Z.

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Chapter Sixteen—The Big Day

"Videl, come on."

"No."

"We need to fix your hair."

"No."

"You're going."

"No."

"You're going."

"Make me."

Hannah bestowed a very severe frown on the curled up form lying on the bed. "All right, I will. I'll drag you out of that bed, tie you into that chair, and do your hair and makeup. Then I will force you into that expensive dress and tie you up again and drag you down the stairs and throw you into that limo with your two friends. Then I will get in with you and go to the restaurant with you. I will force feed your dinner to you. Then I'll follow you to the dance and chain you to the first guy I see walking around alone. You _will_ go, and you _will_ have fun." The housekeeper paused dramatically, and her eyes narrowed at the moping teenager (who had rolled over on the bed and was now staring at the older woman in open mouthed amazement). "Or else. Do you understand me?"

Even in her unhappy state, Videl couldn't help but laugh at the unsubtle threat. "Are you that determined to get rid of me for the evening?"

"Yes."

"Tough luck."

"Videl."

"No."

"He told you to go," Hannah pointed out, picking up a hairbrush from a dresser and turning it over in her hands. "I think you should go. You're going with those two blonde kids, Sharpner and Erasa, right?" Few people could get away with telling Satan Videl what to do, and Hannah was one of those few. Since Videl's mother had died so long ago, the housekeeper had become almost a mother to her young friend, and had seen her through everything, from scraped knees to the very rare tears over boys.

"Yeah."

"So you can hang out with them and still have a good time. He wants you to go."

"I know."

"So let's fix your hair."

"No."

Everyone has their limits, and Hannah's had just about been reached. She walked over and stood over the raven haired teen with a look on her face that would have made tougher people then Videl cringe in fear and hide under their beds. "You. Are. Going. So. Get. Moving. NOW!"

Videl knew that tone and she knew that look. She hadn't gotten it very often in her life, but the few times she had been on the receiving end of that glare had been a few too many. Trying not to start shaking, she slipped off the bed and walked quickly to the chair that Hannah had appointed as her 'beautify Videl for the prom' seat.

Hannah watched in satisfaction. Even though she was becoming more and more advanced in her age, she could still strike fear into the hearts of rebellious teenagers when necessary. It was a skill Hannah was inordinately proud of.

Humming to herself, the elderly housekeeper of the Satan household set about primping her victim…ah, _friend_ for the big night. So let's see…curls in the hair, plus some natural colors in the makeup…and then the dress…the shoes…the purse…

Hannah grinned, in spite of her adopted daughter's misery. Oh, yes…

Videl was going to look _good_.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Meanwhile, while Hannah was cowing Videl into going to the prom, someone else was having a little talk in the Otherworld. Actually, a very heated little talk.

"So that's the situation down there. It's a real mess," Goku finished with an unhappy sigh. "Poor Gohan…and poor whatever her name is, too…"

"Oh dear…" Baba frowned.

King Yemma wore a similar expression to the witch's. He was obviously turning some sort of idea over in his mind. "Maybe…" he began, but trailed off and fell silent again.

After waiting patiently for all of five seconds (twice as long as his usual attention span), Goku finally gave in and yelled, "Maybe what?!?"

The giant tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Let me talk to a few people. It's a very long shot, but there might be something we can do."

A wide grin broke on the Saiyan's face. "All right!" he jumped up and down excitedly and thrust his fist into the air in a triumphant gesture.

"Don't get your hopes up!" Yemma interjected quickly and forcefully. "I'm not saying anything can actually be done! But there is a very small chance."

Goku's smile didn't falter in the least. "Thanks, Yemma!" he called over his shoulder as he ran out of the Otherworld Check-In Station, completely ignoring the caution that whatever Yemma had in mind might not work. It just wasn't important to him at the moment. By way of Instant Transmission, he zapped himself back to the Holy Training Grounds of the Afterlife. Humming cheerfully to himself, he skipped merrily over to the rainbow colored pool.

And froze.

His fellow Otherworld fighters were sitting around the viewing pond, eating popcorn, drinking beer, and watching a football game being broadcast in the pool.

"Uh, guys…what are you doing?" the Saiyan asked in confusion.

From somewhere near the front of the group, King Kai's nasal snort could be heard in reply calling, "Watching the big game, of course!"

Goku clapped a hand to his forehead and shook his head. "Oh, brother…"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Somewhere in the depths of HFIL, a fierce looking man with long hair and a tail stood up.

Radditz blinked and looked around. "Yeah?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Krillen frowned. The poor kid was really upset!

Gohan was perched in a chair in Master Roshi's living room. The chibi's eyes were downcast, and his face was an interesting mask; it was the look of someone who is hopelessly dejected and sad, but who is trying very hard not to let it show too much.

He had actually come over to the Kame House to escape his mother's wailing and crying and ranting and breaking things and swinging frying pans around without discretion, all in her heartbreak over her son being unable to go to the prom with his future wife, if she had anything to say about it.

"Come on, Gohan," Yamcha said with a certain amount of forced happiness in his voice. "Cheer up. It'll be okay. There'll be other dances and other dates."

"But not another prom," Gohan sighed miserably. "And maybe not another date with Videl."

Well, there really wasn't anything Krillen could say in response to that. The poor kid was majorly bummed, and nothing was going to make him get un-bummed. Probably not for quite some time.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"You're sure you're okay with this?" Videl asked, peering at her reflection in the mirror with wide eyes. Was that her? If so, then Hannah was a Kami damn genius!

"Positive. Go and have a good time," Gohan replied firmly, balancing the phone between his shoulder and his cheek while he closed himself into the safety of his bedroom and throwing the lock to further protect himself from any intrusions into his haven.

"I can come over there and hang out with you instead, if you want," she offered perhaps a little too eagerly, but he absolutely wouldn't hear of it.

"Go. Have fun. That's an order," he said in a tone that brooked no arguments.

"…okay…" she acquiesced finally, albeit grudgingly.

They talked for a moment longer before saying their good-byes and hanging up. But as the phone beeped off in his hand, Gohan felt a sudden rush of mixed emotions come shooting across the mind to mind bond he and Videl shared. Quickly, he slammed the proverbial door shut.

Gohan dropped the phone on his desk and flopped onto his back on his bed. He stared at the ceiling. It was very boring. He closed his eyes. Yup, that was boring too. He opened his eyes. The ceiling was still there. Yup. It was still boring. No escape.

Goten had been ordered to leave his brother alone under penalty of severe torture, possible death, and—worst of all—no food for an undetermined length of time. His mother was also keeping her distance, oddly enough, in a rare display of good sense. Plus, he had made certain he locked his bedroom door. So Gohan figured he was safe.

And so he sat—or rather, laid—in the growing darkness of his room, staring off into space, not moving. His mind was completely void of thoughts, a rare occurrence for him.

Due to his mildly catatonic state, it wasn't until later that he noticed something—namely, a dull pain in his lower back. He didn't know how long the pain had been forming there, but he did know it was gradually getting worse. But it wasn't unbearable. At least, not yet, anyway.

It reminded him of times during his first childhood. There had always been a stab of pain in his lower back right before his tail decided to grow back.

__

Great, this is just what I need, he thought, feeling more bitter than angry. _I'm missing my prom and my date, I'm an eighteen year old stuck in a seven year old body, I have a bedtime again, and to top it all off, my tail picks tonight to grow back. Great. Perfect. Just peachy…_

He closed his eyes, plunging himself from partial darkness into total darkness, and sighed, waiting for the growing pain in his back to subside.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Goten was sitting on the floor with his feet straight out in front of him. He was letting his feet swing back and forth, and regarded them with a certain degree of interest.

Nearby, his mother was busying herself by folding laundry. But it was obvious that her thoughts were far, far way, on vacation in Elsewhere.

"Mom?"

ChiChi turned to the doorway, and her eyes met Gohan's. She dropped the shirt she'd been folding, and clasped her now-empty hand over her eyes. "Good Kami…what next?"

AN: Next chapter will most likely be very, very loooooooong. Translation: it might take a little longer for me to get it out. So please be patient. I'm hurrying, I promise. Time is just something I don't have much of anymore, between classes, work, and everything else under the sun. But even if I don't update for a while, I'm still here, and I'm still going. Never fear, dear friends.

BTW, my dear readers, keep your eyes peeled for the introduction of a new character to this story. Someone I haven't used very often. Hehehe…this is what happens when I discuss my stories with Fred the Mutant Pickle, and ask for advice.


	17. The Big Night

**AN: **And we're off with Chapter Seventeen!!! Hooray!!! *whew* After this chapter is over, we'll be delving back into full-fledged humor…or at least my poor excuse for humor, anyway. I do have a few more frying pan gags up my sleeve…which is kind of impossible, because I'm wearing a tank top as I type this author's note. *ponders* …okay, enough of that. On with da ficcy!!! I don't own DBZ, or the songs used in this fic, and I don't own any proms, or any hypnotists or footbridges…yah.

**Chapter Seventeen—The Big Night**

The pounding on the lab door stirred Bulma from her studious concentration. Growling to herself under her breath, she wheeled around, stormed to the door, and flung it wide open, a scathing reprimand primed and ready on her tongue to be delivered to whoever dared to disturb her important work.

But the sharp words never flew. They froze behind her lips when she saw who was there.

It was ChiChi, looking a few steps beyond frazzled. She was leading an equally frazzled looking Gohan by the hand. Goten was by her side, looking genuinely confused at what was going on.

Bulma blinked in amazement, not quite sure how to react. Then, slowly, she said, "Well, this is a surprise. What brought this on?"

"We don't know," ChiChi sighed. "But it doesn't matter. Can you help?"

The heiress to Capsule Corporation straightened her shoulders and nodded confidently. "Who do you think you're talking to here? Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

*~*~*~*

For the most part, the large hall was dark. Light was cast from a few bright spotlights that were panning over the dance floor. The walls and floor were shaking from the sheer volume of the music. The room was decorated almost entirely in silver and turquoise, with brightly colored flowers everywhere. The decorating committee had almost outdone themselves.

One person wasn't really paying attention to the wonderful décor or the music. This person was having a few problems at the moment. Problems that involved a group of young men who had crowded around the table she and her friends had claimed upon their arrival at the dance.

"No, I don't want to dance," Videl said automatically for about the hundredth time in maybe fifteen minutes. "I have a date."

Yet no matter how many times she rejected them, the guys just didn't seem to get it. They flocked around her like the pack of empty headed puppies they were. Most of them didn't ask more than once, but instead continued to hover near her, as if by just persisting in their very presence, she would change her mind or something equally unlikely. And then there were the really aggravating ones, the smart ones, who would try to pull something cool by asking where her date was. She would pretend not to hear them, or in a few cases of those who couldn't be dissuaded by rudeness, she would reply with a curt," somewhere else."

Why were they bothering her? Probably because of how she looked, she supposed. She had looked in awe at her reflection in the mirror at home, and she had glanced at herself in the mirror a short time ago when Erasa had dragged her into the bathroom. She did look wonderful—or as Donovan, her family's butler, had said, _alluring. _Hair curled and twisted up into a fashionable creation, light makeup expertly applied, perfect accessories, and a stunning, floor-length red dress that flattered without revealing too much. Her father had cried, Hannah had gloated, Donovan had sighed, Erasa had giggled, and Sharpner's eyes had bugged out for miles.

Finally, the guys started to get the hint, and slowly the crowd dispersed, headed for parts unknown. By what magic that had happened, she really didn't know, but she was grateful. She was finally, blessedly, alone. With a semi-relieved sigh, she listened to the music.

_It's something unpredictable_

_But in the end it's right_

_I hope you had the time of your life_

Well, wasn't _that_ just ironic.

Something behind her eyes started to burn, but she willed it to stop. That just wasn't what she needed at this moment. Curtly, she brushed off one of the last puppy dogs and crossed her arms. She looked angry enough that the rest of the annoying males finally took their leave.__

A new song came on, a slow song.

_Alone again tonight_

_Without someone to love_

_Stars are shining bright_

_So one more wish goes up_

She bit her lip, both in vexation and to further hold back the tears that threatened to come spilling out and destroy her makeup. Besides, puffy, red rimmed eyes weren't going to enhance her look at all. This really sucked. Why was she even here? She would have much rather gone over to the Son house and spent the evening in comfortable clothes, hanging out with Gohan and Goten.

Gohan…she dug her teeth harder into her lip, and closed her eyes against the hot tears.

"You look upset," one of the guys said from somewhere behind her. She restrained the urge to stand up and repeatedly punch the idiot who could make such an understatement. But instead, she didn't reply, but focused her stare straight ahead, watching Sharpner and Erasa hang on each other.

This really sucked.

She was contemplating leaving when she became aware of someone standing next to her chair. She blinked back her tears and lifted her head. It was a guy, wordlessly offering his hand to her.

Videl's heart suddenly started pounding as she raised her gaze further and found herself staring into a pair of very familiar charcoal-black eyes. Very amused eyes. Eyes belonging to someone who looked absolutely drop dead gorgeous in a tux. She tried to say something, but her voice caught. She probably looked like a dead fish caught on a hook, with her mouth hanging open like that.

"Would you like to dance, milady?" a blessedly familiar voice asked softly. She had missed hearing that particular voice for quite a while now. Quite frankly, the question sounded outdated, like something from a courtier of old; it didn't help that he had bowed slightly as he asked. It was only saved from total absurdity by the gentle smile on his face. It was a smile that made her either want to laugh or cry, she couldn't quite decide which.

Slowly, she lifted one hand and placed it in Gohan's proffered one.

Gohan, who was a child no more.

Their hands fit perfectly.

Videl didn't resist; she allowed herself to be lead out onto the dance floor. She barely even noticed how many eyes followed her and her newfound partner.

He spun her out and pulled her back in expertly; her arms slid around his neck, while his arms encircled her waist. Her head lulled comfortably against his chest as they fell easily into the slow, constant rhythm of the music.

_Oh, I wish I may_

_And I wish with all my might_

_For the love I've been dreaming of_

_And missing in my life_

For a while, they were silent, ignoring the jealous and startled glares being shot their way. They didn't notice anything; they simply moved together, enjoying the simple pleasure of just being together.

Finally, Gohan broke the comfortable silence that had been hanging between them; he spoke in a hushed whisper, as though afraid to disturb the mood they had so carefully enveloped themselves in. "So…did you miss me?"

She chuckled. "I can't believe you're here."

"Me neither."

"How did you—"

"I don't know," he cut her off. "It was just after I got off the phone with you. I don't know what happened, but I close my eyes, and the next thing I know, I'm…me again."

"How does it feel to be eighteen again?" she asked, half teasingly.

He grinned. "Weird. It's weird to be tall again."

She laughed and let silence lapse over them again.

_I guess I must be wishing on someone else's star_

_Seems like someone else keeps getting_

_What I'm wishing for_

_Why can't I be as lucky as those other people are?_

_Oh, I guess I must be wishing on someone else's star_

When the song ended, they broke apart, albeit a bit hesitantly. For one split second, their eyes locked. Then they were attacked by two overly energetic blondes.

"Gohan!" Erasa gushed. "Videl said you couldn't make it! We didn't think you would be here!"

"Yeah, G-man!" Sharpner said, sounding surprisingly friendly. "Where were you?"

"Where have you been?" another girl from their class descended on them. "You haven't been at school for months! Was something wrong?"

"Well, there were some circumstances beyond my control. I didn't think I'd be able to make it, but everything worked out all right in time. I am glad I could make it, though," Gohan explained. The interesting thing was that every word he spoke was the truth—just not all of it.

Erasa felt the need to fawn over him for another forty five minutes or so, as did half the senior girls. After all, this was Son Gohan in a tux they were talking about! Not something to be taken lightly, disregarded, or ignored. One of the nicest, cutest boys in the school looking even better than normal? Every girl in the school needed to get a picture.

Finally, he managed to escape from them and made a successful retreat back to his ever patient date. Videl was just standing there, watching most of the girls at the dance hang on her date, with this strange little smile on her face, like she was off in a dream.

A fast song came on. Videl looked out at the dancefloor, then up at Gohan with a mischievous grin on her face. "Hey…wanna dance?"

He blinked. "Umm…I don't think I'm very good at it."

"No problem," she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the floor. "Me neither."

*~*~*~*

"Come on, come on!" Erasa bubbled, pulling both Gohan and Sharpner by the hand. "We gotta get going! It's time for the after-prom party! Let's go!"

Neither of the two males resisted much, and the four teens soon hustled themselves into the white  limo, and they were off.

Erasa and Sharpner were all over each other in an instant, so Gohan and Videl were for all intents and purposes alone in the spacious backseat of the limo.

They could have talked and had a conversation, but they didn't. Gohan simply switched on the radio to try and semi-mask the sound of what the two blondes were doing a couple feet away. Videl leaned against him, letting her head rest almost possessively against his shoulder; his arms easily encircled her waist in an equally possessive pose. It was quite comfortable.

Too bad the ride was so short.

The driver opened the door, and the four teenagers clambered out and headed inside the large downtown building—an athletic center—where the party was being held. They could hear the sound of loud music and voices coming from inside. And as they got closer, Gohan doubted the others could pick it up, but his overly sensitive Saiyan nose could smell a combination of pizza, chocolate, and pop, and a few other scents he couldn't quite distinguish.

The second they were inside, Erasa grabbed Videl and pulled her down the hallway to the girl's bathroom so they could change out of their formal dresses and into jeans and things. This left Gohan and Sharpner to do the same, only in the men's room.

"So, Brains," Sharpner said casually while they were changing, "where've ya been? You haven't been at school for, what, a month now? Something like that."

Gohan glanced over his shoulder; the blonde jock wasn't really paying any attention to him. Sharpner was too busy admiring his "physique" in the mirror to look at his classmate. So he didn't notice that Gohan had gone a shade lighter. The demi-Saiyan debated for a moment, then grinned.

"My little brother gathered these seven magical rocks. When he got them together, a dragon came out of them and said it would grant him two wishes. He used the first wish to wish that I was seven years old again. So since I was just a kid again, my mom decided to keep me at home until we can get the seven magic rocks again in four months and wish me back to normal."

Sharpner burst out laughing, telling Gohan that he had been very correct in assuming that the truth wouldn't be believed. "That's a good one. No, seriously, where've you been?"

Gohan smirked. "Family issues. That's all I'll say."

Surprisingly, the jock didn't press the issue. They gathered their formalwear (most of which ended up being shoved into the bottom of a gym back and thrown over a shoulder with absolutely no regard for wrinkles) and meandered back out into the hallway. A few minutes later, the girls also emerged.

"Are we ready?" Erasa bubbled. She was wearing denim shorts and her favorite green tube top. "Don't forget about the hypnotist!"

Gohan shot a quizzical look at Videl.

"There's a hypnotist who's gonna do a show for us," Videl answered the unspoken question. "I don't know much about it, but I've heard that it's fantastic."

"We've got a little time before the show starts. Let's eat!" Sharpner declared, pointing towards a sign that said 'Dining Room.'

A few dozen slices of pizza and about twenty Mountain Dews later, the four teens emerged with full stomachs and caffeine highs. Erasa actually had the shakes, which the others (who were wired like none other) found extremely funny. They wandered into the gymnasium, where about twenty-five folding chairs were set up at the front of the room; a large number of students had already taken seats on the floor, waiting in eager anticipation to watch what they were sure would be an amazing show.

About ten minutes after they sat down, a young blonde man in a bright red shirt walked up to the front of the room and picked up a microphone. "All right, let's get started!"

A chorus of cheers met his announcement.

"My name is David, and tonight, we're going to hypnotize a few of you. But first, we're going to do a little test," he said cheerfully. He proceeded to instruct them—they were to hold their hands out in front of them and focus on join them together. Then, at his command, they would find themselves unable to pull their hands apart. Finally, he stopped talking for a second, and said, "All right, open your eyes. If your hands are stuck together, stand up."

Erasa's hands broke apart easily. "Aww," she pouted.

Likewise, it took no effort for Sharpner to separate his hands. "Damn," he muttered angrily, though he wasn't quite sure if he should be angry or not.

But on the other side of the coin, Videl was in a rather unpleasant situation. Her hands would simply not come apart. Not at all. And it seemed like the more she tried, the harder it became. Considering her nature, she did NOT like this at all. Not being able to control something as simple as her hands was definitely at the bottom of the spectrum of likeable things. Someone grudgingly, she stood up and was appointed to a chair on the stage.

And Gohan was in the same boat. If Vegeta had been able to see, he would have laughed; one of the strongest beings alive, the son of his sworn rival, could not pull his clasped hands apart. Not even Saiyan strength could stand up to the power of hypnotism. It was positively unnerving. But never one to disappoint, he stood up and was also directed to a chair, right beside Videl.

Moments later, the chairs were full; twenty-five high school students were standing there, receiving thunderous applause from their peers. Most weren't really focusing on the applause, though. Most were still struggling against the invisible bonds that seemed to be holding their hands together.

David grinned at the expressions on their faces. Then his eyes narrowed in on Videl, and he walked over to her. "Young lady, do me a favor, please. Hold your arms straight out."

She complied, a little suspiciously. He took hold of her hands. "Now, focus on the sound of my voice. One…" he began moving her arms in a wide circle, "…two…three…sleep!" When he said 'sleep,' he touched her forehead, and caught her as she fell. He laid her down on the ground, where she didn't move. The mighty Satan Videl was completely unconscious on the floor.

The assembly gasped at this turn of events. This was definitely not what they had expected.

A second later, another girl joined Videl in slumber on the wooden floor, but the audience was too busy jabbering in amazement to even really notice.

He touched both of their foreheads, and said, "When I tell you to, you will wake up. You will be more relaxed then you've ever been in your whole life, and you will be very cheerful. Wake up!"

Two pairs of eyes snapped open. Videl's focused in on the hypnotist immediately, and a wide smile crossed her face. "Hi!"

"Hello," he grinned. "What's your name?"

"Videl."

"Well, Videl, can I help you up?" he offered her his hand, but she soon discovered that her fingers were still locked together. "Oh, you can all go ahead and pull your hands apart."

All twenty-five of the victims were suddenly able to yank their hands apart. Most rubbed their now-aching knuckles while they watched Videl and the other girl stand up and retake their places. By now, Gohan looked more than a little panicked. What had he gotten himself into?

But the show went on, and within a few minutes, David had managed to put everyone in the chairs on stage under his spell. They were all leaning against each other, eyes closed and breathing even, giving every appearance of being sound asleep. After all, they had been told to focus on the hypnotist's voice, and his voice had told them to be completely relaxed.

For their first experience under hypnosis, they were instructed to be driving a Mercedes in their favorite color. All of them had their hands poised in the air as though they were holding a steering wheel. They followed the hypnotist's instructions, from the air conditioning breaking and making the air unbearably cold, to driving to the beach, where they saw a really old fat guy in a thong bending over (the facial expressions were absolutely priceless at that point). Along the way, they managed to flip off a cop as well. The assembly of students and teachers were in stitches. Then they were knocked out again, leaning quite comfortably on each other's shoulders.

"All right, you are all five years old again, and you are students in my kindergarten class," the young blonde man said into the microphone so that everyone could hear him. He was pacing back and forth in front of his assembled victims, grinning from ear to ear. "When I'm looking at you, you are good little boys and girls, but when my back is turned, you are naughty children, and if I catch you, you'll have extra homework and no recess. But you are energetic children, eager to make me happy. Also, when I ask you to say the alphabet, you won't be able to remember anything after the letter L. When you reach the letter L, your mind will go completely blank. And when I ask you to count to ten, the number six will no longer exist. You will go straight from five to seven. Now…wake up!"

Everyone's eyes opened, and they all sat up. Their demeanors had completely changed, from a small group of high school students enjoying their after prom party to a class of eager first graders, paying studious attention to their "teacher."

He paced back and forth in front of them, asking them if they'd done their homework and such. When he was looking at them, they were obedient little children. But the minute he passed by and his back was turned, they began making faces at him and each other and other minor troublemaking.

"Now, children," he said, "we're going to say our ABC's. All together now!"

Like good little children, they began reciting. "…H, I, J, K, L…" Everyone stopped in perfect unison and stared blankly ahead. The laughter washed over them, but they didn't really seem to notice.

"I'm disappointed. I thought you said you did your homework," the hypnotist scolded gently. "But we'll move on. Now we're going to practice our counting. Let's count the fingers on our right hand, first." They complied. "Now our left hand." In both cases, they came up with five. "What is five plus five?"

"Ten!" they all replied enthusiastically.

"All right, let's count all our fingers together."

"One, two, three, four, five," they counted on one hand and then turned to the other, "seven, eight, nine, ten." Then everyone's faces went blank as they stared at their extra pinky.

Videl tilted her head to one side for a second before calling out, "Eleven!" The audience roared at the sudden stupidity of their resident hero.

"Maybe we should try it again," David suggested. "Let's go one hand at a time."

"One, two, three, four, five," they all counted the fingers on their left hands obediently.

"Now the other one."

Most of them got five again, but Son Gohan suddenly jumped up, like someone had set a firecracker off under his chair. "I have eleven fingers on one hand!" he screamed, staring at his left hand in panic. This sent all of his classmates into uncontrollable laughter. This was the smartest guy in the school, the resident genius, the guy who aced his entrance exams? It was just too much!

After calming Gohan down, the show went on. Everyone was put back into the hypnotic slumber, and started leaning on each other again. David then told them, "Now we're going to play a game. We're going to play Jeopardy. The prize is one million zenni. I'm going to ask each of you a question, but when you have to say the answer, it will fly from your mind. Your mind will go completely blank, and the harder you try to think of the answer, the further away it will get. Awake!"

Everyone stood up. The hypnotist walked up to the first person in the line, a guy from one of Gohan's classes named Mark. "All right, young man. Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir!" Mark replied confidently.

"You think you can answer the question?"

"I sure can."

"Okay," David said. "What is your first name?" He then held the microphone up so that whatever the kid said next would be broadcast for all to hear.

The teenager opened his mouth…and froze.

After a few seconds, David smiled. "Oh, too bad."

He went down the line, and it was the same with each of the twenty-five victims. The reactions differed slightly, though. For example, Videl actually said, "Oh, shit," when she realized she couldn't remember. After Gohan's turn, he ran down to the end of the line to get another turn, and ended up getting into a shoving match with a couple of the other people.

It went downhill from there. At one point, Videl was hypnotized into believing she was American singer Britney Spears, and started dancing and singing. Some other guys became a boy band.

But probably the best stunt of the night was one of Gohan's. The hypnotist walked up to him while he was 'asleep' and put a small orange lifejacket around his neck, the kind of thing used for small children who are just learning to swim. He also hung something else around the demi-Saiyan's neck, and said, "When I say the word 'safety, you will…" he then leaned in and whispered the rest of the instructions right into Gohan's ear, so that no one else could hear what Gohan would do when the word 'safety' was uttered.

A few minutes after this, the hypnotist said to the audience, "Well, I noticed when I was coming in that the security here is pretty tight. They must be concerned about…safety!"

At the sound of the word, Gohan jumped to his feet, looking furious. He blew long and hard into a whistle that had been placed around his neck, stormed forward, and glared at everyone before bellowing, "Quit peeing in the pool!!!" Then he turned and stalked back to his chair, where he sat and stared menacingly at everyone watching, just daring them to try and cross him.

Everyone nearly died laughing at that. And unfortunately for our favorite demi-Saiyan, he was forced to repeat the exercise a few more times. The third time, the hypnotist said, "It's disgusting, isn't it? And they just won't stop, will they?"

"Yeah, it's gross!" Gohan yelled. "I'm gonna kick 'em out if they don't knock it off!"

"You're a very good lifeguard, son," David said. "What's your name?"

Gohan opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. A look of confusion replaced the angry expression on his face, and he sat down, scratching his head.

Another girl, Penny, suffered a similar fate as Gohan. She was told that when she heard the word 'roadrunner,' she would run around the gym, yelling "Beep beep!" And another girl, one that wasn't in any of Gohan's classes, had to skip around the room like Dorothy from _The Wizard of Oz_ when she heard the word 'Toto.' Similarly, when asked, they still couldn't remember their own first names.

It continued. The last stunt of the night was when they all had to mimic the actions of a doll in the hypnotist's hands. When he moved the doll's left arm, everyone on the stage moved their left arm.

When the twenty-five in the chairs woke up, it was to thunderous applause, cheers, and extreme laughter. They took their bows, but all were looking at each other with expressions that clearly read, "What the hell happened?" None of them remembered a thing of the last two hours of their lives. All they knew was that whatever they had done had to have been embarassing, judging by the reactions of their peers.

*~*~*~*

The after-prom party had finally adjourned, and the upperclassmen of Orange Star High School flooded out into the parking lot, all but drowning themselves in laughter. The victims of the hypnotist—Gohan and Videl included—were more than a little confused. They didn't remember much, if anything, of their exploits on stage, which made it all the more hilarious to fill them in.

"Gohan, that was the funniest thing I've ever seen in my life!" Sharpner laughed, much to the demi-Saiyan's chargrin. He was referring to when he had gotten up and performed the 'I'm a Little Teapot' song, complete with dance, while he had been convinced that he was five years old and couldn't say his alphabet. Still, he had reasoned that the jock's reaction and teasing could have been a whole lot worse; Erasa was laughing so hard she couldn't even speak.

"I really don't want to go home yet," Gohan commented as they climbed into the limo for about the millionth time that night. He'd been spending way too much time at home anyway. In spite of all the fun he'd been having reliving the lost days of his childhood, this was better. He missed hanging out with his friends from school, crazy and ditzy as they could be.

To his surprise, his offhanded interjection was met with extreme enthusiasm, and it was quickly decided that they were going to go someplace else for a while. It was a pleasantly comfortable evening, a clear night with a beautiful moon (AN: The moon's back, just so everyone knows. Why? Because I'm the author and I said so!) and millions of stars. All in all, they agreed, it was a perfect night for a relaxing walk along the river in the park.

In fairly short order, the group of teenagers once again climbed out of the limo and into the fresh, cool night air.

Almost immediately, the two blondes ran off by themselves. Gohan decided he really did NOT want to know what they were doing. And in his opinion, this was actually not a bad arrangement, when he looked at the bigger picture.

He looked down at Videl; she looked right back up at him. "Wanna go for a walk?" she asked, suddenly feeling a little shy. Gohan nodded, and without another word they began walking slowly along the path that followed the river's course.

For a while, they were quiet, simply drinking in the beauty and perfection of the night. Suddenly, Gohan felt a little bolder than usual, and he reached out a hand, searching for hers; to his surprise, her hand was already seeking his, and their fingers interlocked in a perfect fit.

The lingered in the peaceful silence for a moment more, reveling in the night and the miracle that they were actually there together at all.

Finally, Videl broke the silence to ask something that had kind of been bothering her. "So…where exactly did you get the tux?" It wasn't exactly the most romantic question—or whatever—but she was quite curious, considering the circumstances.

"Bulma," Gohan chuckled in reply. "There are definite perks to knowing one of the most influential people alive, and being able to get a formal tux that fits is but one of them."

She laughed. "Makes sense."

The had wandered onto a small footbridge that crossed the river, a neat little structure under a natural canopy of tree branches. Water flowing beneath it provided gentle background music.

It was on the bridge that Videl suddenly stopped walking. Gohan took a few more steps before he noticed and also came to a halt. He half-turned to look at her, still holding her hand.

"What's up?" he asked softly.

But her eyes were cast upwards towards the sky. "Looking."

He followed her gaze. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Hmm…" she murmured in agreement. "When I was a kid, I always used to think the sky was a big city, and all the stars were people who lived in the city, and the moon was the leader. But then the moon disappeared, so I decided that the leader had gone away for a while." A slight blush tinted her cheeks. "Pretty silly, huh?"

"Not at all," Gohan replied, smiling as he remembered that Piccolo had been the one to make the moon-leader 'go away.' He also remembered the day that they had wished the moon back. But his mind was logging away the notion of the sky-city and star-people as a possible future bedtime story for Goten. That kid would just love this! "It's a really cute idea. But I actually know what happened to the moon—"

"Gohan, look!" Videl cried suddenly, interrupting him; she was pointing excitedly at the sky with her free hand.

His eyes flew to the heavens, and widened in awe. "Wow…"

A shooting star streaked across the velvety blue-black sky. The tail that flew in its wake almost looked like a rainbow, trailing along behind it.

Videl's eyes didn't leave the sky until she felt a tug on her hand, pulling her gently along. She didn't resist the pull.

"Are you going to make a wish?" Gohan whispered. He was standing close, and his proximity when he spoke combined with the soft voice he had used to send a chill down her spine.

She closed her eyes tightly and wished with all her might…after a minute, she relaxed.

"Man, you must have wished for something big. What did you wish for?" Gohan queried, his voice reflecting amusement at the fervency with which she had made her wish.

"Uh-uh," she shook her head. "Can't tell. It won't come true."

"Aw, you're no fun."

"I don't have to be fun."

As she spoke, she turned a little, and her eyes locked with his. They both froze.

It happened slowly. They both moved forward, inch by agonizing inch, until finally, for a brief second, their lips met in a featherlike touch. They broke apart for only an instant before going in for a second, less tentative try. Her arms snaked their way around his neck, while his hands found their way to her back. (AN: You perverts, I know what you're thinking, and no.)

When they seperated again, this time after a little longer time, an awkward silence descended with an audible thunk as they both looked everywhere but at each other, faces burning.

Then Videl heard a dry chuckle. "You know," Gohan said, "after I got off the phone with you, my back started hurting really bad. It felt like someone was kicking me. I thought my tail was growing back! But then the pain stopped and I opened my eyes and suddenly, _voila, I'm me again! I wish I knew exactly how it happened, though…"_

The awkwardness gone, Videl leaned happily into a simple hug. Considering how badly it had started, this had truly turned into a wonderful night…

Her eyes snapped open, and she pulled away from the embrace far enough to look up at Gohan with one eyebrow quirked in curiousity. He'd said something that was just too weird for her to ignore.

"Tail?"

*~*~*~*

"I'd really like to know how you pulled that one off, Yemma," Baba commented wryly, observing the wonderfully romantic scene in her crystal ball.

"You have to know the right people," the giant replied before turning his full attention to the other person sitting on his desk for this viewing experience. "Well? What do you think, Goku?"

The Saiyan was smiling happily. "I owe you big time for this one."

"Damn straight!" Yemma boomed, though he didn't really mean it. After all that Goku had done for him, the Earth, and the Otherworld, helping Gohan out of some very unfortunately circumstances was really the least he and the other powers of the afterlife could do.

"Is her permanently back to normal?" Goku asked.

"No. It's just for tonight. He'll change back as soon as he falls asleep," Yemma shook his head in answer to the question. "I'd love to see the look on his face when he wakes up."

"Gohan is Cinderella!" Goku laughed. Then he sobered a little. "But look at that. My son's all grown up and has a girlfriend…geez, I've missed everything, haven't I?" He watched Gohan and Videl walking for a few more seconds, then grinned up at the giant in the purple suit. "Thanks, Yemma. I really owe ya one. This was great."

*~*~*~*

The digital clock showed the time as being well after one o'clock in the afternoon. Sunlight was pouring in through the window like a golden waterfall. It finally managed to fall across the face of a person  sound asleep in the bed.

Now, this person did not take kindly to having such bright light in his eyes after such a long night. And after he had even take special care to try and position himself so this very thing wouldn't happen. All in all, it was just plain irritating. And now he was awake, much as he didn't want to be.

After quite some time of wrestling to block out the accursed brightness, he finally gave up. It just wasn't worth it, and he was wide awake, anyway. Groaning in protest at this violation of his slumber, Gohan flung the covers off and sat up, rubbing at his eyes sleepily.

Then he noticed his hands. They were small again.

Suddenly, he wasn't sleepy anymore. Not at all.

He jumped out of bed—getting tangled in the blankets in the process and ending up sprawled face down on his bedroom floor—and scrambled out of the jumbled bedclothes and across the room. A glance in the mirror confirmed his worst—and most confusing—fear.

He had been chibified!

…again.

But…how?

Finally, Gohan decided he really didn't care. He was hungry, and at the moment, that was a much more pressing issue than how he had gone from a seven year old to an eighteen year old and back to a seven year old. When you're seven, even with an eighteen year old's mind, abstract thought and reasoning takes a very poor second to the call of your stomach.

A brief dig through his closet produced a clean gi of the appropriate size (and another glance in the mirror proved that his hair was still in the multi-directional spikes, rather than the Kami-awful moptop). Once properly attired, he opened his bedroom door and walked down to the kitchen.

Unfortunately, just as he stepped into the room, it occurred to him that perhaps his mother and brother wouldn't take this turn of events as easily as he had. And that might be a problem.

But it was too late. His mother had heard him come in with a mother's oversensitive ears (or perhaps she had just seen him with the eyes in the back of her head), and she turned to greet her older son.

Her older son, who was once again the same size as her younger son.

And Goten chose that moment to come into the kitchen, searching for his post midmorning snack pre-lunch treat. He, too, froze at the sight of his brother standing in the doorway.

"Go…han…" ChiChi stuttered, holding up the frying pan she had been washing; it was dripping soapy water onto her nice clean floor, a crime Gohan himself had been thwacked for a few times. But she didn't seem to notice the small mess.

Then the pan fell from her hand with a clatter that made Gohan's Saiyan ears ring, and without another sound, her eyes rolled back into her head and she passed out, landing flat on her back on the floor.

Goten looked at his brother, then looked at his now-unconscious mother; then he looked back at his brother and cocked his head to one side as if thinking something over for a minute. Then he frowned darkly and put his hands on his hips in a near-perfect imitation of their mother in a bad mood. "Oh, for crying out loud, would you make up your mind already?!?"

AN: Okay, that was my sappy, lovey-dovey G/V chapter. But no more! Ta-da, the prom crisis has been solved, and I still have a story, so it works out well for everyone. And besides, I knew this would turn into an obscenely long chapter—actually, the longest single chapter I've ever posted. Yay! But I was amazed. NOBODY who reviewed the last chapter guessed. Or if they did, they didn't say so. You guys know I'm a sucker for a happy ending!

The hypnotist thing was actually based off what happened at my after-prom party. Truthfully, I was one of the people on the stage, and I can't remember a damn thing except for counting. I know what happened, though, because after the party I went to Perkin's with my friends (at about five-thirty AM) for breakfast, and they told me the whole thing about five times. So yeah, I know what I did. Apparently, I do a very good impression of John Travolta's dancing from _Saturday Night Fever._ *sweatdrops*

I'm giving in to pressure and starting a mailing list. If you want me to email you when I post the next chapter, let me know in a review or an email or whatever. But if you say so in a review, pretty please INCLUDE YOUR EMAIL ADDY IN THE REVIEW!!!!!

Next time, on "Once Upon a Chibi," Gohan's back to his chibified self, and he's decided that once again, things have gotten a little too peaceful around Capsule Corporation. Vegeta had better watch out!!! Oh, and the Voice of Doom will be coming back. Eventually.


	18. The Prank, Part III

**AN: **Hello again, friends. We're back with yet another chapter. Joy of joys, right? I hope everyone's still enjoying my little tale. I do have a few things left to throw in this story—one of which I'm still working out the details of, but it should provide some opportunities for humor. Trust me. ^^ Anyhoo, on we go. I don't own Dragonball Z. Never have, never will…*sniff*…*SOB!*

**Chapter Eighteen—The Prank, Part III**

A week had passed since the interesting night on which Gohan had miraculously been returned to his eighteen year old self in order to attend his senior prom. And it had been one week since Gohan had woken up to discover that this metamorphosis was only a Cinderella story, and he had been returned to his seven year old state. He was definitely not very happy about this turn of events, but he didn't feel right complaining. After all, he was just grateful that he had been able to attend the prom at all!

So now he was back at home, back to what had become a normal routine: wake up, get dressed, eat breakfast, go outside with Goten for a while, come home, study, eat lunch, study, go see Piccolo, get into trouble with Goten and/or Trunks, get smacked with the frying pan, eat dinner, study, go to bed. Occasionally, he would go to Capsule Corporation and spar with Vegeta or work with Bulma on some project or whatnot, as his brain was still eighteen and as fully a genius as his eighteen year old self. And on a few occasions, he had make visits to the Kame House to see Krillen and Master Roshi and the rest of the gang residing therein. But for the most part, his life was fairly routine.

And there were those other times, those times when he could just break free and fly away or go be by himself or something. Those were the times he loved best, when he could truly be a child and not have to worry about anything at all.

But every once in a while, something would come up in which Gohan would be required to use his full eighteen year old mentality and come up with a plan of some kind. Usually, a plan destined to cause annoyance, anger, and/or embarassment to a certain Prince of all Saiyans in retaliation for said Prince of all Saiyans having inflicted some kind of mild torture to Gohan.

After all, turnabout was fair play, right?

Like this morning, for example. Gohan had gone to Capsule Corporation to see Bulma and the others. He had been eager to fill them in on the success of his prom (leaving out a few mild details, of course), but this was the first chance he'd had to get over there.

Naturally, Bulma was delighted at the news that he had miraculously transformed back for a night and been able to attend the big night. Trunks, who was acting like his father at that moment, had wanted to know what exactly had transpired between Gohan and Videl, but Gohan had brushed off the subtly disguised interrogations and continued his conversation with Bulma.

Unfortunately, Vegeta was not so easily dissuaded as Trunks had been. The Saiyan Prince was hanging around, making all sorts of inappropriate, suggestive, and, for the most part, untrue comments about what Gohan might have done that night. Apparently, he was in a very aggressive mood, for not even the threat of Bulma's Frying Pan of Doom and Terror *insert theme music here* could make him stop. By the time he left, Gohan was shaking with barely suppressed rage and mild embarassment.

He already knew what had to be done. And his genius mind was already hard at work, formulating a cruel, devilish, devious, and altogether _delicious plan._

Things had been awfully quiet around here as of late. It was time to disturb the peace again. And fortunately, he had the perfect battle plan already laid out carefully in his mind.

It was time to summon another meeting of the Order of the Prank. Which was also the Frying Pan Support Group on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and even Fridays.

*~*~*~*

The meeting had been hurriedly called, so the usual long, dark green robes and candles had been forgone just this once. They just didn't have time to go get them and get everything set up. There was too much work to do to waste any time on such trivial things.

They met around the circular table, as usual. Gohan quickly and carefully outlined his plan to his fellow conspirators. They drank in his words like a religious zealot would drink in holy writ. There was an unholy glee written quite plainly in their wide eyes.

"Gohan, my dad was right," Trunks said with an admiring sigh when Gohan had finished. "You really are the spawn of Satan."

"But…" Goten scratched his head in confusion, "I thought our dad's name was Goku."

Trunks rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Anyway," Gohan said, calling their attention back to the matter at hand, "we must prepare for the next phase of our Supremely Amazingly Wonderfully Groovily Awesome Master Plan."

Three identically evil smiles were painted comfortably on three young faces.

*~*~*~*

The Prince of all Saiyans marched loudly through the hallways of the Capsule Corporation complex. As always, he made certain that the whole world knew of his impending arrival. But that's how he always walked around. And if you didn't know that by now, you haven't been reading the story very carefully, now have you?

Yes, it was mealtime, and Vegeta was off to the kitchen in search of something even remotely edible—in other words, something the woman hadn't tried to cook. Then he would return to his regularly scheduled activity—you guessed it—training.

But then he heard it. The faintest hint of sound. A voice, whispering something nearby.

He stopped dead in his tracks. His ears were on the fullest alert, listening intently for any further sounds. Since Kakarott Brat Numero Uno had been chibified, Vegeta's life had gotten a whole lot more complicated. He hadn't had a moment's peace, between the brat coming over to see the woman and the brat working together with the other two brats to pull prank after prank on the mighty Saiyan warrior.

And with all of that going on, Vegeta had become a little paranoid. At the first sign that something might be up, he went into full defensive mode. His eyes narrowed and glanced around furtively, searching for any glimpse of the trouble-making brats, but he saw nothing. He opened a mental eye and checked for their ki signatures—even the brats, in all their cleverness, couldn't possibly mask those…right?

Right. There they were.

Outside.

That meant he was safe.

For now, anyway.

But that was good enough for Vegeta at the moment. He was hungry, and the call of his enormous Saiyan appetite dwarfed everything else. Even the possibility that maybe, just maybe, a couple of vengeful and ingenius children…er, _brats, where trying to get into position to do something extremely treacherous, or pull some incredibly brilliant prank on him. Even Vegeta would admit that the practical jokes were absolutely genius. Of course, he would never admit it out loud, but hey, he would admit it._

Once he reached the kitchen, he peered around. No sign of any trouble makers. Good. He crossed the room to the fridge, but paused with one gloved hand poised on the handle. With a patience and caution that was extremely unnatural for him, the Saiyan eased the refrigerator door open a few inches and peered inside. No beady eyes peered back at him, and there were no flicking tongues or scaly bodies destroying the food. Yup, it was safe. The only thing in the fridge was food.

It didn't take too terribly long for Vegeta to make his selections—he pulled everything out save for the bottle of vinegar at the back and the box of baking soda. Then he lugged this light snack over to the table, which buckled beneath the weight of so much food. He dug in; it took about twenty minutes for him to devour an amount of food that would have fed lunch to a small army.

Somewhat satisfied, the proud Saiyan left the mess on the table and stalked back towards his treasured Gravity Room. Let the woman or one of the underlings clean up after him.

*~*~*~*

"This is so good!" Trunks commented happily as they finished preparations for the next phase of their pranks against Vegeta, their Supremely Humongously Elephantically Brilliant Plan. And this newest stage was definitely one of their more interesting ones.

"Thanks," Gohan grinned back as he double-checked their stockpile. This had taken a little bit of set up, but it was all going to be worth it in the long run.

Goten piped up then. "Gohan, it's really gonna suck when you gotta go back to being a grown up again, 'cause then you can't help us with this stuff anymore!"

"I know," the teenaged chibi replied, "but hey, we'll have as much fun as we can while it lasts."

"Shhh!!!" Trunks whispered frantically, cutting off their conversation. "He's coming!"

*~*~*~*

Vegeta walked confidently out of the large dome that was Capsule Corporation, his mind intently going through plans for the complicated training exercises he was soon to inflict upon himself. So deep in thought was he that he lapsed a tiny bit in his alertness, and stopped really paying attention. He also somehow managed to forget that there were three devious children who really had it in for him, and were taking a lot of pleasure in making him miserable.

He remembered, though, a whole two seconds after walking outside.

More specifically, he remembered after something hit him in the head. Actually, a few something. Actually, a small barrage of somethings. A small barrage of somethings that left him soaked from the tip of his flame-shaped hair to the toes of his boots. By the time the assault stopped, dozens of little, brightly colored pieces of something littered the ground around me; an equal number was decorating his hair, like ornaments on a Christmas tree.

The proud Saiyan whirled and glared up into the sky, where three chibis were hovering, grinning in complete and total victory.

"What's the matter, Vegeta?" Gohan laughed. "Don't you like water balloons?"

Vegeta opened his mouth to yell something when he became aware of a distinct odor coming from somewhere nearby. He sniffed again, and nearly passed out from the awful stench. It smelled like rotting flowers strewn on top of a pile of wet garbage. It was the most revolting thing he had ever smelled.

And it was coming from…

…him.

"Brat," he snarled through clenched teeth, "what was in those Kami-damned things?"

Gohan grinned, though his hands were starting to shake. "Well…we wanted to be original. Anybody can make an ordinary water balloon! So we filled our water balloons with perfume!"

At this point, Vegeta completely lost his temper. "YOU STUPID *beep beep beep beep beep beep beep* *censored censored censored* HEAD!!!!!"  he roared in blind fury at the chibis in the sky. Then he launched into the sky at them.

A moment later, Bulma appeared. "Vegeta, what have I told you about killing the kids?"

At the sound of his mate's voice, the proud Saiyan landed and glared at her. "Oh, I have a very good reason to kill those disgusting brats!"

As he raged, Bulma suddenly sniffed the air, and nearly retched. That was vile! "Vegeta, what the HFIL did you get into? That's awful!"

"The brats did this," he glowered towards the sky, at the place where the chibis had last been. They had taken Bulma's interruption as the prized opportunity that it was, and had flown the coop, headed for parts unknown.

"Oh, good gods! That's gross!" the blue-haired beauty covered her mouth and nose with her hand and stumbled backwards. "Go take a shower or something! Please!"

Still fuming with barely suppressed rage, he stormed off towards the bathroom; in his wake, the smell permeated the whole building. It was thoroughly disgusting.

Even more disgusting was the fact that the shower really didn't do much, if any, good. It only dampened the stench a tiny bit. Nothing worked against the nauseating smell.

Vegeta would smell like rotten flowers for a week following the incident. On Bulma's orders…ah, _request_, he was confined to the Gravity Room until the smell disappeared.

But, alas for the poor chibis, they were not to get off so easily, either. They had gone to the Son household to formulate some kind of an escape plan that would probably involve them running off to live in the wilderness for a few days, or at least until Vegeta's ki level returned to normal.

Unfortunately, Bulma had possessed the presence of mind to call ChiChi and alert her to the latest in a long line of pratical jokes being perpetrated against the Prince of the Saiyan race. So the Son family matriarch was ready and waiting when they landed in front of her little home.

"Where have you been?" she asked amiably, not betraying her knowledge.

"Capsule Corp," Gohan said cheerfully.

"Doing what?"

"Nothing."

"That's not what Bulma said when she called a few minutes ago."

Gohan, Goten, and Trunks all went deathly pale. Then, if such a thing was even possible, they went a few shades lighter when ChiChi reached behind her back. They all cringed as they waited for her to pull out the Frying Pan of Doom and proceed to deliver their punishment.

But to their surprise, she pulled out not a frying pan, but a small black object. It was about eight inches long and maybe an inch or so in diameter. There was a small button on the side, but otherwise, it looked like just some strange black tube thing.

The three children let out visible signs of relief. They weren't going to be thwapped after all!

The relief died in a heartbeat when ChiChi pressed the button. A beam of bright green light shot out of the black tube and formed itself into the shape of a frying pan. She lowered herself into a fighting stance and gripped the black tube in both hands, holding it up in preparation to strike. *insert Star Wars theme music here*

Then, with deadly accuracy, she struck, and the chibis fell.

Once the punishment had been meted out, she pushed the button again, and the light disappeared. The black tube was returned to the astral pocket.

Humming to herself, ChiChi walked over, picked up the phone, and dialed a number. Three rings later, Bulma answered in a voice that was somewhat clamer. "Capsule Corporation. Bulma speaking."

"Hey, Bulma. I got 'em," ChiChi said cheerfully. "And hey, thanks for letting me test out this new light saber frying pan of yours. It works like a charm."

AN: End chapter. Poor Veggie. He's so fun. I've still got a few more prank chapters to go, and eventually, there will be a frying pan support group. Speaking of frying pans, kudos to my friends Rachel and Brandon for giving me the idea for the frying pan light saber. Praise them, I say! Hehe…

Next time, on Once Upon a Chibi, oh no! There's a bank robbery in progress in downtown Satan City! Who will stop these perpetrators from harming any innocent civilians? Three guesses…that's righ! The city's favorite superhero is back!


	19. The Return of the Great Saiyaman

**AN: ***bowing up and down frantically* Gomen, gomen, gomen!!!! Actually, I had this one done before I posted Chapter Eighteen. Everyone once in a while, I get a little bit ahead. But then what do I do? I can't find my disk, so I can't post it. So don't blame me! But enough of my silly blabbering. We must proceed if we are ever to get to the end of the story! Yah, yah, yah…I mean, no, no, no, I don't own DBZ.

**Chapter Nineteen—The Return of the Great Saiyaman**

"Gohan!"

The chibi looked up from his textbook at the sound of his mother's voice calling his name. He jumped down from the chair at his desk and went to the door. "Yes?"

"I need you to do some shopping for me!" ChiChi hollered back.

"Okay, let me put my shoes on!" Gohan replied, though he could just barely keep himself from singing. A chance to get away from his house and his studies for a while? All right!

He skipped over to the bed and sat down on it to pull his shoes on. He had always loved going into the city! But as he jumped off the bed, ready to go, he bumped his nightstand, sending several objects falling to the floor. Muttering, he stooped to pick them up.

"Hey, my watch!" he said happily when he saw the piece of jewelry amidst the fallen odds and ends on the rug. This was no ordinary watch, though. This was a Capsule Corporation watch, built specially by Bulma Briefs herself. When the little button on the side of the watch was pushed, the wearer would suddenly find himself clad in the unmistakable outfit of the Great Saiyaman, hero of Satan City, protector of the weak, innocent, and defenseless, defender of truth and justice, blah blah blah…

"Gohan!" his mother called again.

"Coming!" he yelled back before looking back at his watch. "This is so cool!"

On his way down to the kitchen, he strapped the band around his wrist and took a second to admire it. He hadn't realized it, but he had missed that thing.

He scampered down to the kitchen where his mother was waiting with a long, narrow piece of paper in her hand. "Here's the grocery list and some money. Hurry home, all right?"

"Kay!" he chirped. "Thanks, Mom!" The chibi skipped outsite and took off, soaring through the sky towards Satan City. Finally, sweet freedom!

When he got closer to the city, he flew down and made a near-perfect landing, the kind of thing that would have made Videl start muttering about show offs and the like. The old gang had always tried to be careful with their abilities of flight, though; there was no telling how ordinary people might react to seeing people flying over their cities. The very best scenario had the witness putting the sighting off to imagination or exhaustion or the massive quantities of psychedelic drugs ingested half an hour before.

At worst, the person would start screaming and hollering that aliens were coming or that there was a bomb about to be dropped on the city, resulting in public panic, mass hysteria, cult suicide, the burning of Tokyo, London, Paris, and New York City, thus signalling the end of civilization as they knew it. Yes, the worst-case scenario could be summed up in one sentence.

It was because of that possible worst-case scenario that Gohan landed just outside the city and opted instead for the normal person's way of getting around: walking. He wandered around, heading in the general direction of the grocery store, though he wasn't really in any hurry. It was such a wonderful day. Such a nice, sunny, peaceful, wonderful day…

But not for long.

A high-pitched scream cut through Gohan's cheerful reverie, snapping him quickly and semi-painfully back to reality. He followed the shriek, and found himself looking at the First National Bank. There were police cars everywhere with lights a-flashing, and cops crawling all over the place, guns drawn. Gohan's intuition, combined with his past experiences, told him that this had all the earmarkings of a large scale robbery in progress.

But before Gohan could do anything, Videl arrived. She landed, and immediately went to the chief of police to be briefed on the situation. Gohan frowned as she disappeared into the building. He couldn't just stand there and watch this! He had to help!

The chibi ducked around a corner into a shadowed alley. No one was around to see him here. Good. He pushed the button and sure enough, like magic, the Saiyaman outfit appeared, perfectly fitted to his currently diminuitive state. He grinned. "All right!"

Thus disguised, he jumped out from his hiding place and flew into the air—it had been established long ago that Saiyaman was capable of flight, so he had no reserves about being airborne while so disguised. He went right over their heads. "Officer, perhaps I can be of assistance?" he called, trying to make his voice as deep as possible—quite a stretch, though, for his voice to jump from a soprano most opera singers would envy to a authority-laden, manly bass. It didn't quite work, but hey, he gave himself credit for trying at this point.

The police chief's eyes shot skyward, and when they focused on the incoming hero, his face lit up. "Hey, everybody, it's Saiya—" the superhero landed; he came up to the officer's waist. "—man?"

"Don't ask," Gohan groaned. Saiyaman was a kid now. Well, wasn't _this just going to send some of the cities more gossipy tongues a-wagging! Not bothering to hang around for any more comments and/or wisecracks concerning his slightly smaller size, he ran into the building._

Inside, there were people everywhere, running around in a frantic panic. In the midst of all of this, right smack dab in the middle of the lobby, Videl was facing off against the bank robbers. The three heavily armed men, all smirking down at the young Miss Satan, reminded Gohan of Nappa: huge, ugly, stupid, and holding the majority of the cards.

Gohan tiptoed up behind two of the men. He pushed off and hovered a few feet in the air, at their shoulder level. He took a great amount of delight at the dramatic way his bright red cape fluttered behind him. It was so perfect! Thus positioned, he waited.

They both seemed to realize simoultaneously that there was someone behind them. Both turned, and were rewarded by a big grin from the Great Saiyaman before the hero grabbed their collars and smacked their heads together; the impact made a sound almost like two coconuts striking together. It was most delightful. Apparently, the two gunmen were exactly Nappa's intelligence. They fell to the ground in a nice disorderly heap.

The third gunman's attention was taken for a split second by the sudden and rather embarassing defeat of his criminal partners. But that split second was all Videl needed to do her thing; she saw her opportunity and seized it. She managed to flatten the third guy with a very well-place kick to his jaw.

With the threat of death out of the way, Videl called for the police backup to come in and arrest the SOBs. Not her exact words, though. That done, she turned her full attention to the Great Saiyaman, who appeared to have shrunk in the wash. Apparently, one was not supposed to put superheroes in the clothes dryer on tumble dry.

"Gohan?" she asked in a low voice so that no one else could over hear—not that there was much chance of being heard if she wanted to be heard, what with all the commotion going on around them. "Is…is that you?"

"Yeah," he gulped, bracing himself for her reaction. He didn't know quite what to expect.

"B-b-b-but," she actually stuttered. "You're a kid again!" This was the first time she had seen him since the night of prom, and it was definitely a shock to see him back in his seven year old state.

"Yeah, I know," he commented, biting back a lugh. She looked so funny with her jaw just dangling open like that! It wasn't often that one saw the great Satan Videl look so…stunned.

"B-b-b-but…" she started, but was cut off at the sound of three deep voices shouting obscenities at the top of their lungs. The three robbers were being taken away by police, but they were putting up one hell of a fight, resisting arrest every single step of the way. The two heroes took advantage of this distraction and snuck away, back into the alley where Gohan had first transformed into Saiyaman. Now, back in the safety of this hiding place, it was okay to change back. One little push of the button, and the Great Saiyaman changed back to his alter ego, Son Gohan, mild mannered student, brother, and alien halfling.

Once he was back to his normal self, Gohan looked up at Videl, waiting somewhat nervously. Inside the bank, she'd been in a state of semi-shock. Now that the surprise was starting to wear off and reality was starting to set in, all he could do was wait for her full reaction to finally hit.

It came.

"Oh, you are sooooooo cute!!!! AGAIN!!!!!" she actually squealed, throwing her arms around his neck and nearly squeezing all the air out of him. Had Gohan been able to breathe, he probably would have groaned. What was it with women and cute? Good grief!

"Son Gohan, where are my groceries?!?" the Voice of DOOM bellowed.

_Haven't heard that for a while, _Gohan thought dryly.

But Videl jumped a mile and looked around with wide eyes before asking what had become the standard response sentence to an appearance of the Voice of DOOM. "How does she do that?"

The chibi shrugged. "Dunno. But I'd better go."

A quick goodbye and another strangling hug later, Son Gohan was running for the grocery store, like a good little boy, to hurry and purchase the items his mother needed.

*~*~*~*

"So you really fought the bad guys?" Goten chirped.

"Yup!" Gohan said proudly. "The Great Saiyaman is back in action!" He accented this declaration by leaping from his desk chair into the middle of the room and striking a few poses that would have made the Ginyu Force roll over in their graves.

"Awesome!" Goten said in awe-struck admiration for his older, same-age brother. Gohan really was the coolest guy alive!

"I hope he's back in action on his calculus homework!" the Voice of DOOM rumbled so loudly that the walls shook and the windows rattled.

The two chibis stared at each other for a minute in total shock.

"How does she do that?" Gohan finally yelped. Then realization dawned, and he paused. "Wait…"

"What?" Goten cocked his head to one side. "What's wrong, brother?"

"Twice in one day?" Gohan murmured, recalling the earlier appearance of the Voice of DOOM.

"I took a couple days off," the Voice said, a little more softly than before. "I'm making up for the lost time now. SO DON'T ARGUE!!!"

AN: I love my Voice of DOOM! Notice that DOOM is now capitalized. Doom just doesn't have the same oomph as DOOM! *sigh* Life is good, eh? Sorry this chapter was a little shorter.

Anyhoo, someone told me that they thought this story was over. Not yet, it's not! We've still got a long way to go! Gohan's still got how much time left? Two months…ish? Something like that. And I've got a few more things to throw in here before I wrap up this little fable. *grinz* We're still in for a fairly long haul here, so don't quit on me now!!!

BTW, I am doing the whole mailing list thing, so if you want me to email you when I update next, leave your email addy in a review, and I'll let you know what's up when it's up. But pretty please put the address in the review or in an email or some such thing!!!!!!

Next time, on "Once Upon a Chibi," I haven't decided what's going to happen next! I think I know, but I'm not totally, one hundred percent sure, so I think it's better not to get your hopes up for something that might not come true. Just don't hold your breath or anything. I'd really hate to hear that someone died because of me. I'd feel kind of bad, I think, if that happened.


	20. Interlude: The Voice of DOOM

**AN: **It's company policy here at Candyland, Inc. not to disappoint the readers when they make suggestions and/or requests. But imagine my absolute shock when I open my email box and find a suggestion from DemonDancing, who is one of the authors on this site whose work I absolutely idolize. This, on top of wonderful reviews…wow! *sweatdrops* I really hope I don't sound totally freakish or anything. It was just really cool for me!

Anyway, muchas, muchas gracias to DemonDancing for this wonderful suggestion (considering I really wasn't sure what I was gonna put in this chapter). I hope everyone enjoys it. Actually, I hope I do her idea justice ^^ This is an interlude, so it doesn't necessarily follow the exact timeline. Matter of fact, as it says in here, this is set right after the battle with Nappa and Vegeta. I don't own DBZ, and theoretically, I don't own this idea either. Oh well, can't have everything.

**Interlude: The Voice of DOOM**

_Insert some kind of witty quote here. I'm too lazy to find one._

Yemma was sitting at his desk. Yup, he's sitting there. Just sitting there, tapping his pencil against the pages of his book, resulting in an incredibly annoying sound that echoed off the walls of the relatively empty office of the Otherworld Check-In Station. The noise alone was just about enough to drive…a person…crazy…like that one ogre who was in the corner, curled up into a little ball, rocking himself back and forth while sucking his thumb and humming "Rock-a-bye Baby" to himself.

To be perfectly blunt, the great king of the Afterlife was bored. Not just bored. We're talking _bored_ here. Bored to the point that flicking a lint ball back and forth could be considered the absolute ultimate in entertainment (AN: A thousand couch potato points to anyone who knows where I saw the 'flicking the lint ball' idea).

He sat back in his oversized chair and stared at the ceiling. No, that was boring too. Today really sucked. There hadn't even been that many deaths that day, and the few that had come through had been pretty boring—you know, died in their sleep, terminal illness, choking on a big mouthful because they hadn't listened to their mothers, etc. Nothing really exciting. No murders, no hit-and-runs, no falling off buildings or bridges or into the Grand Canyon or anything that could make for an interesting story.

Truthfully, there hadn't been any majorly interesting 'this is how I died' stories for several days now. Several days ago, those two Saiyans had landed on Earth, and managed to blow up a few major cities before being defeated by Son Goku. Ah, yes, Yemma often found himself reminiscing about times like that, when there had actually been something for him to do.

Such was the state that King Kai found the great King Yemma in.

"Yemma?" the kai wheezed.

To his surprise, Yemma jumped about twenty feet in the air—and then landed leaning a little too far back, so his chair flipped and upended itself, resulting in a crash that made people on Earth look around in confusion at the noise. Those in the office cringed and covered their ears.

The mighty red giant sat up and shook his head rapidly in an effort to make the little birdies stop fluttering around him, singing. His head hurt, and they were twittering away at an awfully high pitch. But once the birds finally decided to fly away, he seemed to realize where he was, and he jumped to his feet in a vain, belated attempt to look nonchalant. He failed miserably, but no one really wanted to say anything, lest the enormous ogre be angered even further.

After a minute, though, Yemma had returned his chair to its normal, upright position, and reseated himself in said chair. He took another long moment to randomly straighten things on his desk in yet another vain attempt to save some shred of his dignity. Finally, he returned his attention to the little blue catfish-man, who had waited patiently for his audience.

"What can I do for you?" Yemma boomed.

"I have to ask you a question," King Kai said in a nasal twang; he sounded like he had several dozen walnuts stuffed in his cheeks.

"Sure," Yemma sighed, more than slightly disappointed. He had really been hoping that it would be something major, like a war between the kais or something. Then he could at least have something to watch on his enormous screen TV. You know, the one in his office that was roughly the side of Rhode Island? It had great reception!

"Oh, let's say I wanted to get back at someone," the short blue kai snorted. "Let's hypothetically say that this someone ate me out of house and home, half destroyed my planet, and smashed my beautiful car into little tiny pieces, and I wanted to get back at this person."

"Yes?" Yemma already knew exactly who was being spoken of, but opted to listen to the end rather than interject that he could guess who it was without too much difficulty.

"Would I get in any trouble?"

The red giant tapped at his chin thoughtfully for a moment, then bestowed a measuring gaze on the fat little kai. "What kind of payback are we talking about? You're not going to kill anyone or anything, are you? That would definitely be out."

A semi-malicious grin crossed King Kai's face. "Here's what I was thinking."

Ten minutes later, the catfish man skipped happily out of King Yemma's office, calling thank you's back over his shoulder as he headed towards Snake Way and the journey back to his home (which was barely in one piece anymore). He seemed to be in an extremely good mood.

Back inside the Check-In Station, seated at the oversized desk, King Yemma was staring straight ahead. Gone was the boredom; it had been replaced by overwhelming shock at just how evil those kais could be when they really had it in for someone.

"Kami speed, Goku," the ogre shook his head, not envying his Saiyan friend. "You're going to need all the prayers you can get if King Kai actually pulls this off."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The little blue catfish man god-type being scampered into his small house, cackling maniacally. Granted, his house wasn't really worth much anymore. Having a Saiyan running around on the planet trying to smack that stupid cricket with a hammer just was simply NOT conducive to maintaining a decent resale value. Currently, King Kai's modest home was only being held together by a few prayers, a little faith, and a whole lot of duct tape (the handyman's secret weapon). His treasured car, however, had not been quite so fortunate. Tomorrow, the crews were coming to carry it off to the Heavenly Scrap Heap.

King Kai mourned the loss of his house, his car, and most of all, his food. There wasn't a crumb left in his house. Goku had offered his concerns that the food in the refrigerator might be spoiling, or that the foodstuffs occupying the cupboard might be poisoned or something, and had bravely volunteered to protect his sensei from the harmful effects of such dangerous eatables.

And now, King Kai was angry.

And when King Kai got angry, he got revenge.

And when he got revenge, people got hurt. Not necessarily physically, though.

For a little blue catfish man, he was quite good at devising the most unimaginable tortures for those he felt deserving of his wrath. And this was by definition a special case.

Cackling, he extended his telepathy towards a specific person on Earth.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Son ChiChi growled angrily and dropped the remnants of yet another broken plate into the garbage can, which was already overflowing with jagged pieces of broken ceramic from her earlier attempts at drying the dishes.

She was just too angry. Goku had managed to get himself killed a year before, and only a few days prior, he had nearly succeeded in getting himself killed yet again. Luckily, he had managed to escape with slightly less drastic injuries—after all, being hospitalized in a full body cast for an undisclosed length of time had to be much better than being dead, right?

The matriarch of the Son family plopped down into her chair at the kitchen table and sighed unhappily. Not only was her husband hopeless, but her son was showing of signs of turning out just like his father. Going off to some strange planet called Namek to gather the Dragonballs and wish back those weirdos that Goku called his friends! Yessirree, Gohan was exactly like his father. It was a true tragedy.  The only difference was that Gohan's IQ at age five was about three or four times that of his adult father's. But hey, you won some, you lost some.

Such was the state she was in—pouting in her kitchen—when the voice came into her mind.

*Greetings, my dear lady,* the nasal twange said in her mind.

ChiChi jumped about three feet in the air, landing neatly on her feet with the treasured Frying Pan of Doom and Terror already poised and ready to strike whoever or whatever dared invade the sanctity of her thoughts with such an irritating voice. "Who is it? Who are you?"

*My name is King Kai,* came the snort of a reply, *and I have a proposition for you.*

"I don't go for that kind of thing, buddy," ChiChi said angrily. "I'm married!"

If the voice in her head had possessed a physical form, it would have sweatdropped. *That's not exactly what I meant. May I explain?*

"Please do."

*I have a slight grudge against your husband,* the voice who had introduced itself as King Kai wheezed. *To make a long story short, he trashed my planet, nearly toppled my house, crushed my car, and ate all my food, and I'm pissed off about it.*

"So where do I come into this?" ChiChi asked, feeling a sudden pang of sympathy for this unknown deity. After all, she knew exactly what he was talking about.

*I want payback. If I'm not mistaken, you have a few things you want to settle with that husband of yours as well,* the voice cackled. *Perhaps we can help each other out?*

"What do I do?" ChiChi demanded, though a little less forcefully. This was starting to sound more and more appealing with each word.

*I will give you the power to strike fear into the hearts of men, including Son Goku,* King Kai snorted. *In return, you will use this power to make sure that Goku suffers, suffers like no inconsiderate man has ever suffered before him. Do we have a deal?*

ChiChi pondered this for about half a nanosecond. "Deal. Just tell me what to do."

The voice snickered maniacally. *Here's what you do.*

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Goku slipped out of his hospital room into the darkened hallway. After peering around for a moment to make sure that there were no doctors or nurses on the prowl. Once he was certain that it was safe, he headed for the door at the end of the hall, a door that led to a flight of stairs…and escape.

His hand was on the door handle, and he was just about to head down those stairs when he heard the most frightening, the most horrifying, the most terrifying sound his ears had ever beheld.

His wife's voice, screaming at him.

"Son Goku, you get back in that hospital bed right this instant or else!"

Goku froze for a moment, then raced back to his hospital room as fast as the bandages would let him, and jumped back into the bed, pulling the thin blanket up over his head to protect himself from the horror that had just befallen him.

"Now listen up, Goku!" ChiChi's voice shrieked. "Don't you dare try running away from that hospital again, or else!"

He shivered in terror beneath the blanket at this horror that had befallen him. What had happened to his wife that she would suddenly have this awesome power? Actually, there was a more pressing question in his mind at that moment. "How does she do that?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

About a hundred miles away, a very satisfied wife smirked. "I think this arrangement will work out very, very nicely. Now let's see what I can do about Gohan…"

And in the Otherworld, at the end of Snake Way, a very satisfied kai snorted. "Revenge is mine. Now Goku will pay for eating all my food and destroying my car!!!" He burst into peals of evil, maniacal laughter. Unfortunately, the vibrations from said laughter shook the walls; even duct tape couldn't save the building against this, and King Kai's house fell down on top of him.

AN: I hope this measured up to everyone's expectations, and I hope I did DemonDancing's idea justice ^^ Or maybe I just worry too much. I dunno. As always, if you want to be on the mailing list to be alerted to updates, let me know!

Also, I want to make an announcement at this time. My cousin got married today, and exactly two weeks from today, I move into my dorm room at college. Then I get to start the fun task of settling in at college. Translation: I don't think I'm going to be writing a whole lot for a while. I've got a lot on my plate, so chances are that updates are going to be fewer and farther between for an undisclosed length of time. *bowing up and down frantically* Gomen.


	21. Tail of a Tale

**AN:** Wow, whaddya know? I'm actually sitting on the futon in my dorm room right now, typing away. Yup, got moved in. Classes start tomorrow. Here's the chapter. I don't own DBZ.

**Chapter Twenty-One—Tail of a Tale**

Gohan kicked back and let himself sink into a state of complete, total, utter, one-hundred percent uncompromised laziness. The chair was comfortable, his mother was out of the house running some errands, and Goten was outside on a mission to go bother Mr. Piccolo, so all was quiet. No one was demanding his time or attention.

And besides, _Dora the Explorer _was on.

"Map!" Gohan yelled at the television screen. A second later, the animated image of a rolled up piece of paper began dancing across the corner of the screen, singing his little song. Then he told them where they needed to go to get to the Bottom of the Ocean. First, they had to go over the Sandcastle. Then they had to across the Boardwalk. Then they would get to the Ocean, where the baby fish lived, by the Big Red Rock. Dora and Boots were carrying the fish home in a bucket.

Gohan had been startled to discover that even with his eighteen year old mind fully intact, his seven year old appearance seemed to be having an affect on his thoughts, perceptions, and ideas. For example, he found himself watching the clock every day, so as not to miss a single episode. As of late, his absolute favorite television shows had been _Dora the Explorer _and _Blue's Clues,_ with a little bit of _Little Bear _when he had time.

And best of all, his mother couldn't protest because they were educational shows. So he was free to watch cartoons, and—even better—play along!

The chibi sat quite peacefully in a chair that was far too large for him in his current state. He was the absolute picture of serenity, calm, peacefulness…

"SWIPER, NO SWIPING!!!!!" he jumped up so that he was standing on the chair, and screamed at the screen, where an animated fox was creeping towards Dora and Boots, intent on stealing whatever valuables they happened to have. But luckily, he had said the magic words in time, and the fox's attempts at thievery were thwarted. Gohan had single handedly saved Dora and Boots from being robbed! He sat back down. "Whew. What a relief."

Then his eighteen year old self took over, and he smacked himself in the forehead. "Good grief." And his eighteen year old mind wanted to know why no one ever thought to call the police on that fox. After all, as he had learned from his sociology textbook (which he had read at the tender age of seven the first time around), such acts of deviance had to have a basis either in Swiper's childhood or his atmosphere. Trauma as a young fox could have created a deep seated need for attention, hence his thievish nature. Or, according to the book on Freudian psychoanalysis, the fox's tendency towards criminal acts could have a deep seated base in unconscious sexual desires—

Then the seven year old took over again, and the thought dropped off as the little band consisting of three rainbow colored insects jumped onto the screen, sounded a fanfare, and jumped back off screen, safely out of sight.

Ah, life was good.

A month and a half left until the Dragonballs would reactivate. He still had a few weeks left of this to enjoy. Then it was back to his adult self, and with that would come his normal adult responsibilities. Truthfully, sometimes he wasn't sure why his mother let him off the hook as many times as she had lately. Maybe she felt a little sorry for her older son, who was finally getting a second chance at childhood.

Or maybe she just enjoyed having him safely at home where she could keep an extremely close watch on him to make sure he didn't screw up. That was completely possible as well.

Either way, he was happy.

He snuggled back into his chair and closed his eyes, opting to listen to the television program, rather than really watch it. It was the same, either way. He could still follow what was happening on his beloved cartoon without seeing it. After all, they made certain to announce things.

This was just perfect…so nice and peaceful…quiet…

"GOOOOOOOOOOOHAAAAAAAAANNNN!!!!!!" the high pitched yell made the seven year old teenager (?) jump a mile and nearly let out a scream of his own.

_So much for peace and quiet, _Gohan thought wryly as Goten came bounding cheerfully and noisily into the room. "Hey, squirt…home already?"

"Yup!" the true chibi beamed happily. "I'm home! Whatcha doing?"

"Watching TV."

"Whatcha watching?"

"Dora the Explorer."

"Blue's Clues is better."

"I know that. But Blue's Clues isn't on right now, so I'm watching Dora."

A pause. "Blue's Clues is better."

They had been through this game before, where Goten would say something, Gohan would respond, and then Goten would persist with his original statement, thus creating a continuous cycle of rambling talk. After a few of these such encounters with his little brother's more annoying moods, Gohan simply decided that it would be in his best interest to just not reply at all.

Goten wandered into the kitchen, then came back about five minutes later and once again draped himself over the arm of the chair Gohan was occupying. For a very short moment he was silent.

Then…

"Blue's Clues is better."

"You said that already."

"That's 'cause it's the truth."

"Whatever."

Five minutes later, the whole thing started all over again. By now, Gohan was getting really ticked off. All he wanted to do was watch his freakin' education cartoon shows on freakin' Nick Jr.! What was so freakin' hard about that?

Apparently, for Goten, something _was_ freakin' hard about that. Gohan just didn't know what.

Finally, Gohan's fairly cool temper was starting to heat up. "Goten, do me a favor."

"What?"

"KNOCK IT OFF!!!!!!"

The force of the yell actually sent the younger of the two brothers flying backwards onto the ground. Goten sat up and rubbed at his head before glaring up at Gohan with anger written across the small face. "Well, excuuuuuuse me for living!"

"Son Goten, leave your brother alone!" the Voice of DOOM bellowed from somewhere in the middle of the ceiling.

"How does she do that?!?" Goten wailed.

With a slightly exaggerated eyeroll, Gohan returned his attention to the television, where Dora, Boots and all their friends were doing the 'We Did It!' song and dance number. Ah, back to his regularly scheduled children's television programming. And with Goten fuming on the floor, all was once again peaceful, quiet, and perfect.

Well, as everyone who knows anything about fanfictions knows, when there is perfection, something is seriously wrong. So naturally, something has to happen to upset any and all happiness.

And it did.

Suddenly, up in his chair, Gohan went very quiet.

After a few seconds, Goten leaned back up over the arm of the chair and peered up at his brother.

Gohan was sitting straight up in his chair, back ramrod straight, looking straight forward; his eyes were bugging out of his head for miles. He had a really funny expression on his face (which was only complimented by the frog-like state of his optical organs), and he was all white and stuff. To put it very bluntly, Gohan looked really funny.

"Whatsa matter, big brother?" Goten asked. He still couldn't shake the habit of calling his sibling 'big brother,' even though at the present Gohan only filled one of those statements.

As if it wasn't bad enough already, suddenly, Gohan's body started shaking like a washing machine on spin cycle. Goten felt his own eyes widened—this was kinda cool!

Then, as suddenly as it had happened, Gohan went limp. But only for a second.

Then he jumped a mile and yelped at the top of his lungs, clutching his hands to his backside. "Oh my freakin' Kami, that hurt!"

Goten continued to watch in wide eyed awe. This was really cool!

After running around the room for a few minutes, Gohan finally calmed down, and stood in the center of the room, panting heavily.

"Okay, something's definitely wrong now," Goten said cheerfully; suddenly, Gohan just wanted to punch his brother really, really hard.

But he didn't. Instead, he responded by reaching behind him and pulling what looked like some kind of fuzzy brown rope around himself. He glared at the limp belt or whatever it was in his hand and sighed. "You just had to come back, didn't you? You just had to!"

As if on cue, ChiChi chose that moment to stroll back inside. "What was all that noise I just heard in here?" Her eyes narrowed menacingly. "Were you two making trouble?"

"No, ma'am!" Goten yelped, jumping to the straightest attention position he could.

"Mom, my tail grew back," Gohan informed her, holding the furry extremity out for his mother's inspection. He was suddenly afraid of what her reaction would be.

ChiChi leaned down and stared at her son's tail. Then she stared at her son. Then back at the tail, then back at Gohan. Finally, she stood up straight and sighed. "Gohan, sometimes I think you're turning into your father, and I swear I'll never forgive you for it. So knock it off."

With that, she strolled into the kitchen.

Gohan and Goten stared after her, startled at the lack of outburst. Then they both looked at each other, and Gohan put his thoughts on his mother's reaction into words.

"What the heck was she talking about?"

"Don't argue!" ChiChi's voice snapped from the kitchen.

Both boys jumped. "Yes, ma'am!"

Then Goten tilted his head to one side in thought. "How does she do that?"

Gohan paused. "Wait a minute…that wasn't it…that was really Mom that time." He pressed one hand to his forehead. "Ugh. Too many voices."

AN: Not my best and kind of short, I know, but classes start tomorrow, and I really wanted to get a new chapter up before I dive headfirst into the first semester of my freshmen year of college. Sorry that this was probably kind of disappointing, but I had requests for the tail to come back ^^


	22. FPSGAWMA

**AN: **Hello again, everyone. I'm back. Sorry my updates have been getting fewer and farther in between. I've just been running around, trying to do everything and get everything done and…I can sum it up in one rating-appropriate word. ARGH!!

Now that we've gotten that out of the way, on with the chapter. If you are male, please don't be offended. It's not personal. I'm just female. I don't own DBZ, I don't own The Man Song (of which I advise you to read the lyrics carefully grinz), and I don't own any frying pans. I consider myself extremely lucky to have my little saucepan with which I make Ramen Noodles and mac 'n' cheese. -;;

**Chapter Twenty-Two—FPSGAWMA**

A gentle tap on the door alerted those within the small room to another arrival. One person, a short man with black hair and no nose, rose and eased the door open a crack. He peered out before opening the door wide open and gesturing for the person outside to enter. "Welcome, friend."

The newcomer—Yamcha—nodded and wordlessly walked into the room and sat down in a vacant chair near the front. He stared at a spot on the wall straight ahead of him and did not say a word to anyone.

There were a few other people in the room already. They sat in chairs arranged in semi-straight lines around the room. At the front of the room was a very small stage, set up with a podium, complete with microphone. It was a cozy little setup for what could turn out to be a very unpleasant meeting.

A glance at his watch told Gohan that it was almost meeting time. He did a very quick head count, trying to remember if anyone was missing. _Let's see…Yamcha, Oolong, Vegeta, Krillen, Trunks, Goten, me, and Master Roshi. Dad's dead, Chaot-zu couldn't make it because of that mime competition, and Piccolo said he wouldn't come if his life depended on it. So who are we missing?_

As if in answer to his thoughts, there was another knock on the door. He opened it and smiled. "Ah, you've arrived. Welcome, friend."

Tien stepped past the chibi and into the room. He looked more than a little nervous as he sat down behind Yamcha; his three eyes glanced around furtively, as though he was frightened of something.

Son Gohan glanced at his watch again. It was now meeting time, and everyone was here. He decided that it was time to begin this all-important meeting.

Gohan climbed the stairs onto the small stage and walked over to the podium. Once behind the podium, he climbed up onto a chair so he could actually see over the podium. His tail swished through the air behind him as the small amount of chatter in the room died. "Good afternoon, my friends. Welcome to the first meeting of the Frying Pan Support Group and Whipped Men Anonymous. Let us begin by reciting our most sacred oath, the Man's Prayer."

The assembly of males clasped their hands and bowed their heads in the utmost revery as they recited a prayer that held true for men everywhere.

_I am a man__  
But I can change__  
If I have to  
I guess_

That done, they lifted their heads and looked at their fearless leader expectantly. Now the meeting could really begin. They were all anxious to be able to share what was going on with the women in their lives, and the frying pans that made them live in utter terror.

"Thank you. We have asserted once again that we are men, and a man has to do what a man ahs to do. Does anyone have a story to share with us today?" Gohan asked, looking around at his assembled friends, family, and tormenters. "Anyone? Anyone?"

Much to his surprise, a short man with black, flame-shaped hair sitting near the back rose to his feet and moved towards the front. He had figured it would take a little more time for that particular male to come forward and tell his story. But Gohan moved aside and surrendered the podium and the audience's attention to the first speaker of the meeting.

"Hello, my name is Vegeta, and I am a whipped man," the short man growled into the microphone at the podium. He looked a little worried about being there.

Everyone in the room chimed in, "Hi, Vegeta!"

The Saiyan Prince took a deep breath and told his sad story. "Well, I live to train. That is what I do. I am a martial artist. So I spend a great deal of my time in the Gravity Room the woman built for me. But sometimes, in the course of my training, I blow up parts of the room, and the woman gets angry because she has to repair it. But yesterday, she got so angry that she just up and smacked me with that Kami-damned frying pan of hers!" The entire room winced and nodded sympathetically. "And then she had the nerve to tell me that she wasn't going to fix my Gravity Room for a week, and that I could spend that week sleeping on the couch, thinking about what I would do without her! The nerve of that woman…" His words slurred into nonintelligible muttering.

"Now, now, Vegeta," Gohan rose from his chair and patted the Saiyan's arm in a comforting gesture. "Let's keep ourselves under control. Remember, this is a support group. We all understand how you feel, and we are here to help you."

Vegeta took a deep breath and nodded his understanding before returning to his seat.

"I also have a frying pan story to share," Gohan himself took the podium once again after Vegeta had sat down. "My mother in quite fond of the frying pan as a method of punishment for me, my father before me, and my brother after or at the same time as me. Last week, my mother discovered that I had somehow managed to hide a comic book within the pages of one of my textbooks, and as such was not doing my schoolwork. She pulled out her frying pan, and…I don't think I need to tell you what happened next, my friends." The other nodded fervently, and Gohan bowed. "Thank you. Have we any other stories to share?" No one moved. "Come now, we're all understanding males. Everyone here is in the same boat. Please, feel free to share your stories and your feelings."

Finally, Tien stood and moved to the stage. Gohan once again stepped away to allow the new speaker to take the podium and tell his sad, tragic tale.

"Hello, my name is Tien, and I am a whipped male," he said softly. He looked nervous.

"Hi, Tien!" everyone else replied, almost a little too cheerfully for the mood of the speaker.

"Lunch and I were enjoying dinner one night when she sneezed. As many of you know, when she sneezes, she…she changes. She becomes an entirely different person. She looked around and went ballistic! Naturally, I tried to calm her down, and she turned on me. She called me a pervert and all sorts of other names, and then she chased me into the kitchen. There—there was a frying pan on the counter. She grabbed it, and then she…she…" He half-turned away from the podium and put his face in his hands. "I'm sorry, I just can't continue. I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Tien," Gohan said soothingly. "We all feel your pain. Trunks, would you give Tien a 'reassurance hug?'" The lavender-haired chibi darted forward and tightly embraced the three-eyed man. Then they both returned to their seats as the rest of the assembly applauded politely.

"Anyone else?" Gohan asked, looking around. No one else moved. He sighed. "Very well, then I have an exercise for us all to partake in, to help us in our conquest of our fears, so that we may escape from the terror of the pan."

Gohan retreated out of sight, behind the stage; everyone whispered to each other, curious as to what the chibified son of Goku had planned. He emerged a moment later, carrying the most terrifying thing one could show to a group of whipped males such as these.

He held, in his hands, an actual frying pan. A solid, real, not-fake frying pan.

The men in the room recoiled in fear; a few leapfrogged over chairs or other people in their frantic efforts to put as much distance between themselves and the horrid thing that was cast-iron cooking implement. No one could believe that anyone would dare bring such a thing here. The horror…the horror!!

Gohan remained still, holding the terrifying instrument in both hands. "Now, this is what we need to work on. The frying pan itself is not our enemy. The frying pan itself will not hurt us. It is only when this thing is wielded by crazed wives, mothers, and basically any female that it becomes something to be feared and avoided. Remember—the frying pan is our friend. It cooks our food for us. Repeat that with me.

"The frying pan is our friend. The frying pan is our friend," the men intoned. Yamcha and Oolong actually climbed down from their hiding spot in the rafters, where they had scrambled to whilst trying to get as far away from the item in Gohan's hands as possible. "The frying pan is our friend."

"We love frying pans," Gohan said gently. "Say it with me."

They all chimed monotonously, "We love frying pans. We love frying pans…"

"Now, lay your hands on the pan and keep repeating that," Gohan held out the object that was the cause of so much fear and terror for these men and continued to instruct them in his kindest 'talking to small children' voice what to say.

"We love frying pans. The pan is our friend," Master Roshi muttered, placing one pale, wrinkled hand on the pan's handle. His eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, but Gohan had the impression that they were probably wide with fear.

One by one, they all touched the pan, still chanting their mantra of 'the pan is our friend' and 'we love the pan.' Many winced in fear as their fingers brushed the cool cast-iron surface, but soon all had made physical contact with the object of their nightmares. They returned to their seats.

"Now do we all feel better?" Gohan asked. "Liberated, perhaps?" Everyone nodded. "Good. Today's meeting is adjourned. We will reconvene next week. Same time, same place. Please bring your stories of frying pan terror, and don't forget to pay dues so that we can have pie and punch next week. Thank you very much. I hereby adjourn this meeting of the Frying Pan Support Group and Whipped Men Anonymous. Go in peace, my friends."

The assembled men rose from their chairs and exited one by one, leaving this sanctuary, where they felt understood and welcomed, and returned to their lives of being dominated by their frying pan-wielding wives, mothers, and just females in general.

* * *

AN: I guess I should add that the Man's Prayer belongs to Red Green. All hail duct tape.

I've been wanting to do this for a while, and since I'm going completely braindead for what I was going to do for this chapter, I just decided to go for it. Hope everyone likey. In case you didn't get it, the title of the chapters (FPSGAWMA) stands for "Frying Pan Support Group and Whipped Men Anonymous."

I don't know how often I'll be updating from now on. I am in college, and homework has to come first. Yuck. But bear with me, and I'll try to make the chapters worth the wait. Promise. And if you have any ideas or anything you'd like to see happen in this fic, please feel free to let me know. I have a few more things I need to put in here, and then I'll probably have to wrap this up for lack of ideas. So any suggestions are extremely welcome!!

And guess what else?! With this chapter, I have finally done it. For the first time ever, I have topped fifty-thousand words in one fanfic!! In only twenty-two chapters, no less!! YAY!! I'm sooooo happy!!

Until next time, Ja ne!


	23. Trick or Treat

**AN: **I know this doesn't fit in any way, shape, or form with the timeline, but it was a kawaii idea, and I just couldn't pass it up!!! And besides, it gives me a chance to do more "devil Gohan" stuff. And I'm the author, so I get to do what I want!!! Fear me!!! I'm starting to wonder if I should just turn this fic over to **Angel wings's**, 'cause this is about the third fabulous idea she's given me that I've used. Praise her, I say!!!! Read her ficcies!!!

*sigh* I had a whole list of chapters to use for this fic, but I can't find it, so updates will be a little further in between as I flounder helplessly, trying to remember all my chapters. It ain't going so well, though. *starts muttering in very bad Japanese* I don't own Japanese…kuso…or DBZ…

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.

.

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**Chapter Twenty-Three—Trick or Treat**

"Can you see?" ChiChi asked.

"Uh-uh!" Goten shook his head, and his mother sighed. She tugged a little bit on the white sheet that now covered her son's head, trying to get the eyeholes lined up just right, so he could see.

It was Halloween, a favorite holiday of children everywhere for a very simple reason—free candy. Especially for Saiyan children, with fully Saiyan appetites, this was a prized holiday. If only it came about eight or nine times a year, instead of only once.

Goten was going as—you guessed it—a ghost. It was a simple costume: an old sheet with a couple of holes punched in it so that the wearer could see where he was going. He looked a little silly, though, as his hair was still sticking up in its standard unruly spikes, and the sheet was also sticking up, all over the place. Add the huge dark eyes peeking out from the eyeholes, and you had a ghost that would melt harder hearts than Frieza's.

ChiChi stood up and absently straightened her skirt. "Gohan! Are you almost ready?"

"Yup!" came the energetic chirp. A second later, a small figure came bounding into the living room. "I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready!!"

Gohan was dressed as—of all things—a monkey. A brown fuzzy jumpsuit, handmade by his ever doting mother, and a matching hat with ears. He even had furry gloves, and a hole in the back of the outfit served to allow his tail to poke through. In other words, they were hiding his newly regrown tail out in plain sight as a part of his Halloween costume. No one would ever know—unless they decided to yank on his tail for some reason. That would definitely _not_ be a good thing.

They had found out, the hard way, that Gohan's new tail was just as sensitive as Goku's had been when he was a child. This revelation had come about a week before, when Goten had decided it would be a lot of fun to play 'Let's Wake Gohan Up By Yanking on His Tail.' Needless to say, Gohan had come awake pretty damn fast—and then promptly fallen over onto the floor, wincing, twitching, and flailing a little as well. Goten had laughed—until his mother had made an appearance with the Holy Frying Pan. Then no one had been laughing at all. Especially not Gohan, who was still twitching as he sat down to breakfast twenty minutes later.

"Now, let's go over the rules one more time," ChiChi said, ushering her boys to the door.

"Don't talk to strangers on the street," Goten chirped.

"And?"

"Don't take more than one piece of candy at a time," Gohan added.

"And?"

"No blowing things up, punching each other, playing pranks on Vegeta, or any other forms of martial arts, ki, fighting, or fun," the two chibis chimed in perfect unison.

"Good," ChiChi nodded her approval at her two boys. "Now off with you! Have fun, be careful, and maybe bring a few pieces of chocolate back to your poor, suffering mother. Now be gone!" She waved her arms at them, shooing them out the door. Then she stood there in the doorway, watching as they disappeared into the darkening sky.

She sighed. They were gone. She had the house to herself for the night.

Grinning, ChiChi went inside to the kitchen. She fixed herself two turkey sandwiches, grabbed a couple cans of Pepsi Vanilla (regular, not diet—she was being wild tonight!), and took a seat in the living room. She popped _Tuesdays with Morrie _into the VCR, cracked open a can of pop, and settled in for a night of peace, quiet, and chick flicks. Sometimes, life was just good.

Or at least it would be until she got a damage report.

But take things one step at a time.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The door to Capsule Corporation opened, and a blue-haired woman in a beautiful gown looked down at them, grinning. "Aww, don't you two just look cute?" Bulma cooed, carefully setting her huge bowl of candy down on a table by the door. "Come on in. Trunks is almost ready."

The two Son boys followed her inside. "You're doing the princess thing, huh?"

"Hey, the way I see, if you guys can have fun with this holiday, then why can't I?" she said matter of factly, tugging absently at her navy blue skirt. "Oh, Trunks, there you are!"

Gohan had to burst into a coughing fit to keep from busting out laughing when he saw the son of Vegeta. Goten just looked confused at Trunks' costume.

Trunks was dressed in blue and white Saiyan armor with the huge shoulder pads, not unlike the uniform his father had been wearing the first time he had landed on Earth so long ago. He even had a scouter perched on his face, with a blue lens. It clashed with his hair, but he had refused anything purple in his costume.

"Like the costume—Trunks—" Gohan snickered in spite of himself.

Trunks rewarded Gohan with a Look. "Hey, back off, monkey boy."

"Funny, that's what a lot of people used to call the Saiyans," Gohan retorted. Strangely, Trunks didn't seem to have a decent comeback for that little jibe. He just stuck frowned, crossed his arms, and stuck his nose in the air. Gohan gave himself a mental high five.

"And what are you supposed to be?" Vegeta snorted. It was obvious that he had overheard Gohan's little 'monkey' comment, and did not appreciate it. Like Gohan really cared.

"I'm a ghost!" Goten bubbled. "Boo!"

Trunks sweatdropped, while Bulma oohed and aahed over the spiky-haired chibi.

"Well, I had to hide my tail somehow, so I just made it part of my costume," Gohan explained. "Makes sense, right—Trunks, if you so much as touch that tail, I swear you'll regret it."

The lavender haired child jerked his hand back from where it had been poised to grasp the furry brown extremity protruding from Gohan's back, leaving Gohan to wonder if Trunks had been educated as to the oversensitivity of tails when pulled or squeezed. That would be so like Vegeta to tell him.

"Well, let's get going!!" Goten hollered, stomping one foot on the ground impatiently. "I want my candy!! Let's go!!"

It didn't take much more persuasion to get the other two children to agree with that statement. Goodbyes were quickly said, and the three costumed kids ran off into the streets of West City, waving a goodbye to Bulma, who was standing in the doorway.

"Whew," she breathed heavily, closing the door. "Three pint sized Saiyans is too much for anybody. Oh, better get ready for the trick or treaters." She brightened at that thought, and went to find her candy bowl. Unfortunately, when she found the dish, there was something wrong with it.

Namely, it was empty.

The Capsule Corporation heiress stared at the vacant bowl; slowly, she inhaled a deep breath, and then let out a scream that would have been enough to shatter windows. But she had already replaced all of Capsule Corp's windows with the unbreakable stuff, due to the fact that two Saiyans were occupying the house. So the windows were safe.

"VegetaGohanGotenTrunks!!!!" she rattled off all four names, not yet sure which one to blame for the missing sweets. "I swear I'm going to starve you all!!"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Man, I wish we could have seen your mom's face when she saw that we took all the candy," Gohan laughed, looking down into his bag. There was now a good deal more in there. Less air, more tangible, solid sugary goodness.

Candy, the stuff dreams were made of.

"Ah, she'll probably blame it on my dad," Trunks replied with a grin. "Come on, we don't have a whole ton of time, and there are a lot of houses out there with candy for us."

The three wasted no more time, and quickly set off for the first row of houses, three more amidst a veritable swarm of other children, all costumed and out bumming candy from hardworking, tax paying adults. 'Tis the spirit of the holiday.

After an hour and a half, though, the three half Saiyan children were growing slightly agitated. By making a slight use of their Saiyan speed, they had managed to cover a lot more ground than the average child, and as such, had managed to collect several pillowcases worth of candy each. But as was par for Saiyan attitudes, the children soon became bored.

"Man, this kinda bites," Trunks complained, dropping his sixth full pillowcase onto the curb and plopping down next to it. He put his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. "I'm about ready to keel over and die of boredom."

"Yeah, no kidding," Gohan sighed, joining Trunks on the curb. "And it's only ten. Doesn't trick or treating technically get over now?"

"Yup," Goten nodded, tossing a miniature candy bar into his mouth. He had been popping candy left and right since they had started trick or treating, but he wasn't in any danger of running low. He had actually gotten extra candy from several adults for simply being so megadorable. "So what should we do?"

There was a pause, a moment of silence. Then, slowly, a smile came over Gohan's face. And it wasn't his usual cheerful Son Grin™ kind of smile, either. This was a smile Trunks had come to watch out for as of late, the smile that meant they were about to do something that would most likely get them arrested if they were caught, or simply killed by their parents. Gohan had looked like this before each of the pranks on Vegeta.

Goten picked that moment to cut into his brother's thoughts. "Uh, Gohan? Remember what Mom said. We're not supposed to get into any trouble!"

"Ah, man, you're right," Gohan said. So the three chibis collected their candy and went home.

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KIDDING!!!! *readers roll their eyes, flame the author, and leave*

Gohan's eyes narrowed evilly. "Well, then we'll just have to make sure that Mom doesn't find out, now won't we." He glanced at the lavender haired chibi next to him. "You in?"

"I'm game," Trunks nodded. He had taken on the same vaguely evil expression that Gohan was wearing, and was grinning like a maniac. This was gonna be good.

"What are we gonna do?" Goten asked.

Gohan actually cackled. "Oh, you'll see, little brother. You'll see."

"Little brother?" Goten protested. "We're the same size!"

"Oh, be quiet."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I've always wanted to do this," Trunks commented, looking down into the enormous paper bag he was carrying. Goten had their three pillowcases worth of candy slung over his back with explicit instructions not to eat any of Gohan or Trunks' candy under penalty of unspecified torture.

Gohan laughed. "It should be interesting."

"Who do we hit?" Trunks asked.

Gohan stopped walking and tapped his chin thoughtfully. Then, slowly, the demonic glint returned to his eyes, and an evil smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, I know the perfect place. Follw me, children. Let the trouble begin."

The three demon children crept along the darkened streets of West City. It was dark, and the sky was cloudy, casting whispy strands over the light from the stars. The glow of streetlights cast spooky shadows on the ground; a wind had picked up, and was sending dry orange and red leaves into flight. It was like something out of a horror movie—the young woman would be walking along down a street just like this. She would hear a noise, stop, look around, and promptly be mauled by some otherworldly being that had appeared out of nowhere. Two hours later, her brother or some teenagers or someone would find the one way to destroy the creature, but about six more people would die in the process.

Saiyan or not, the three chibis were still just that—children. And almost anyone would have been put on edge by the scene. Gohan, Goten, and Trunks huddled together and moved almost as one towards their destination. Oh, this was creepy…

A twig snapped nearby, and both Goten and Trunks let out yelps and jumped onto Gohan's back; Gohan took an involuntary step back and raised a fist in preparation, should he need to defend himself, his brother, and his friend.

A squirrel scampered out onto the sidewalk. It paused, looked at the three half Saiyan children, and then darted off into the street.

The terrible trio remained motionless for a long moment, then let out a huge sigh of relief. Then they all looked at each other and let out nervous, embarassed laughter. Goten and Trunks climbed down from Gohan's back and picked up the bags and pillowcases they had dropped in their panic.

A bush nearby rustled. Goten and Trunks screamed, dropped their parcels again and for the second time leapt onto Gohan's back. Time stood still again.

A bunny rabbit hopped past, taking no notice of the frightened children.

Again, nervous laughter, and the three relaxed.

The sound of crashing reached their ears as several metal trashcans in a nearby alley were knocked over; they clashed against each other like cymbals in their descent.

"Oh, knock it off already," Gohan sighed, prying Goten and Trunks off of his back for a third time. They landed on the ground with a thump and glared at Gohan. He glared back. "Come on, let's go already. Lots to do."

The rest of the trip was made with no interruptions or otherwise freaky happenings. Finally, their destination and decided target loomed ahead.

Capsule Corporation.

"Mom is going to blow a gasket!" Trunks cackled, reaching into the bag he was carrying and withdrawing a roll of toilet paper. He tossed it to Gohan and then pulled out another one for himself. "I'll get the roof, you guys get the trees."

For the next half hour, the three children happily doused the huge domed building with strips of Charmin©. It looked like a strange snowfall had descended. Streamers of toilet paper hung from the trees, the top of the dome looked like it had hair, and the Gravity Room had practically been mummified. They even wrapped up a hovercar sitting in the driveway. By using Saiyan speed, they drenched one of West City's landmarks in toilet paper.

Finally, all three of them touched down on the sidewalk and looked at their handiwork. The huge domed building was only semi-visible. They had used enough toilet paper to service a small neighborhood for a week, and the results were astounding.

"Your parents are gonna freak," Goten murmured, staring at the results.

"Well, we'd better get going," Gohan said cheerfully, hoisting his candy sacks onto his back. "Remember, we're spending the night at my house." He sighed. "I'd love to be here when Bulma sees this, though. And Vegeta too." He laughed and took off into the sky, with Goten and Trunks trailing behind him. It was late, who would be out to see them flying?

Unfortunately for the three demi Saiyan children, there were still people out and about.

They didn't notice it, but on the ground, two men were watching the sky. One had binoculars in his hand, the other was holding a video camera.

"What do you make of that?" one of them said.

"The aliens have landed," the other replied. "They're here to take over the world! We've got to stop them!" He glanced at his companion. "To think we were looking for ghosts."

"Call the police, the army, and the media," man #1 said, pressing the button to turn off the camera. "Let's bring those things down."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Shhh…" Gohan whispered to Goten and Trunks. "If Mom wakes up, she might ask questions, so be really quiet, okay?" Two mute nods were the only answer he got.

Carefully, they tiptoed inside, past ChiChi (who was sound asleep in front of the television), and into Gohan's room, where they carefully closed the door behind them.

"Whew, safe at last!" Gohan sighed happily, dropping his load of candy on the floor and jumping onto the bed. "I really wish I could be there tomorrow when Bulma sees that mess…"

Without much more activity, the three children fell asleep, dreaming of candy, squirrels, and a toilet paper draped Capsule Corp.

The next morning…

"Whew, great night last night, and a great day this morning," Trunks stretched his arms over his head. Sunlight streamed in through the window. Slowly, all three of the children stirred themselves awake.

Together, they headed down to the kitchen, where ChiChi was busily preparing breakfast for three hungry Saiyan kids. "Good morning," she said pleasantly, flipping eggs in the pan. "Did you have fun trick or treating? Get lots of candy?"

"Yup!" Goten chirped. "You can have some of my chocolate, if you want, Mommy."

While ChiChi gushed over the generosity of her younger son, Gohan and Trunks wandered into the living room and turned on the television. The news was on.

"Oh, this is boring—" Trunks stared to say, but he stopped short when he realized what was actually being reported on the news.

"…and two men claim to have captured on video three aliens flying in the skies over West City last night," the anchorwoman was adjusting her glasses as she spoke. "While the sighting is as yet unverified, the tape is being analyzed by experts to determine whether or not it is legitimate. In the meantime, the two witnesses are also being examined by psychologists to see if their mental state is reliable enough for their testimony to be acceptable."

Two men appeared on screen then. One of them was speaking. "The aliens are here among us. They are here to take over the world! By God, we must stop them!!!"

The recording itself then appeared on screen. Three small figures, each surrounded by a glowing white aura, were shooting across the night sky. They were painfully obvious, standing out like sore thumbs against the pitch black clouds.

Then the anchorwoman reappeared. "And in other news, world famous company Capsule Corporation was struck by vandals last night." An image of the toilet paper draped dome was flashed on screen. Another reporter was standing in front of it, microphone in hand.

"No one is exactly sure how the vandals managed to do such a thorough job without being noticed, but thus far, Bulma Briefs has not appeared for comment," the on the spot reporter said seriously.

Just then, the front door of the building opened and Bulma stepped out, steaming mug in hand. She looked around for a moment in what appeared to be confusion. Then the mug fell from her hand, shattered against the sidewalk, and she screamed.

Gohan reached out and clicked off the television. He and Trunks stared at each other for a long moment, then both turned and walked quickly back into the kitchen, where breakfast was just being put out on the table. ChiChi looked at the two returning children. "What were you two watching?"

"Oh, the news," Gohan replied.

"Anything interesting happen?" ChiChi asked cheerfully.

Gohan and Trunks looked at each other, then quickly shook their heads. "Nope, nothing even remotely interesting! Let's eat!"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bulma Briefs strolled through the halls of Capsule Corporation, heading for the kitchen and her first morning cup of tea. It was November first, the day after Halloween, and it was a beautiful day indeed. Vegeta was still snoring away, though.

After grabbing her mug and making tea, she meandered towards the front door with the intention of retrieving her morning paper. After all, this was the only time of day she usually had total peace and quiet. Most of the time, she had to deal with either Vegeta crashing around or Trunks crashing around.

She opened the front door—and froze.

All she saw was white. Everywhere—just white.

"Did it snow?" she murmured, brow knitting as she looked around. No, it couldn't be snow. It wasn't cold, and the white stuff didn't look anything like snow. It almost looked like…

Toilet paper.

It was only then that she noticed a large crowd of people standing in the street, staring up at her home. And there was a news camera there, with an on the spot reporter talking and gesturing towards the building. What the—

Suddenly, realization clicked. Bulma dropped her mug—it shattered on impact with the ground, splashing hot tea everywhere—and shrieked.

*

No one ever found out who trashed Capsule Corporation that Halloween night. Although many had their suspicions, no one was ever punished for the crime. Generally, most people decided it would be easiest to just blame it on the aliens that those two men had caught on video (a tape which, strangely enough, was found to be legitimate). And it was generally left at that.

But Goten, Trunks, and Gohan didn't necessarily get off entirely scot free. When they appeared at Capsule Corp the next day, Bulma was waiting for them. Together, with Vegeta, they were given clean up duty. The Saiyan Prince complained about it every step of the way, and gave the chibis several odd looks throughout, making them wonder if maybe _he knew._ But there was no proof, so they were safe.

And even cleaning up wasn't so bad. When Gohan went home that day, he had two new pictures to hang on his bedroom wall. The first was of him, Goten, and Trunks draped in fashionable toilet paper togas. The other was if Vegeta in a toilet paper toga—actually, it was more that Goten and Trunks had dropped a few armloads of the thin white paper onto the Saiyan Prince's head and Gohan had taken the snapshot. But either way, it made for a great photo.

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AN: *pant pant pant* There…it's done…UGH! *Candyland keels over dead*

I know T.P.ing is illegal and all, but hey—just think of this chapter's subtitle as being yet another aspect of the prank chapters. Actually, I think my next chapter (when I can move my lazy @$$ to write it) will probably be another full prank chapter because I haven't done a prank for a while. How shall I torment Veggie-chan this time…

I probably won't update for a while, though. My poor word processor is about ready to burst into flames from being pushed so hard to get this update ready for my birthday. Yes, dear friends, October 30th is my b'day—the big 1-8!! Hehe, now Ryann and Andrew can't make fun of me for being a minor anymore. Yay!! Anyway, thanks for reading/reviewing. Ciao!


	24. The Prank, Part IV

**AN: **Whee, new chapter. Yay! Another prank, no less. But this prank has a little twist to it, I promise you.

I hate to break it to everyone, but I'm running out of ideas. So this fic may very well be drawing to a close soon. I know there will be one more prank chapter after this, and then I have ideas for several more chapters, plus a brilliant epilogue that someone gave me the idea for—but I can't remember who!!! ARGH!

*sigh* I'm not sure how many more chapters there'll be. Plus, I'm just running short on DBZ inspiration in general. If anyone has any ideas, any suggestions, any inspirations, I'd be more than happy to take them. But enough of my droning, on with the chapter, I don't own Dragonball Z!

**Chapter Twenty-Four—The Prank, Part IV**

"Hey, guys!" Trunks grinned like a madman when he saw who it was that had knocked on the door. The lavender haired child stepped aside to allow his fellow children to step into the house. "So are we making trouble today or what?"

Gohan ran a hand through his spiky black hair and shook his head. "Nah, not in the mood. Plus, I don't any really good ideas. But don't worry," he grinned, "we'll get Vegeta at least one more time before we can make the wish."

Trunks closed the front door. "Hard to believe it's almost over. You've only got a couple more weeks, don't you?"

"Two and a half weeks," Gohan replied. "And I intend to cram as much fun into it as I can."

"Gohan, I don't know if the Dragon screwed you up or something," Goten chirped, following his brother and best friend towards the kitchen, "but ever since you turned into a kid, you're evil."

"You bet I am!" Gohan laughed. "Now let's see about lunch."

It didn't take them a terribly long time to rustle up enough sandwiches to satisfy even the most intense of Saiyan appetites, and they sat down to make quick work of their meal. At some point, they began conversing with each other.

"Blue Clue's is the best show!" Goten declared proudly, out of the blue (pardon the pun).

Trunks rolled his eyes. "Goten, you're such a toddler."

"Hey, leave him alone!" Gohan leapt to his brother's defense. After all, he was known to watch the show now and again. That little blue puppy was so smart!

"Who are you, my mother?" Trunks was all attitude. It was scary, how much he could resemble Vegeta when he really, really tried.

"You're just jealous because I'm better looking," Gohan teased.

"I'm smarter," Trunks snapped, eyes flaring.

"I'm still older than you," Gohan retorted, sticking his tongue out at the lavender haired chibi. "And my dad's stronger than your dad. Ha. So there."

Trunks frowned in irritation, and muttered something extremely unflattering under his breath as he climbed down from his chair and walked to the fridge. He dug through it for a minute, as though looking for something, then closed it. But as he was strolling back, he took a slight detour, around the back of Gohan's chair. One hand shot out.

And grabbed Gohan's tail.

The chibified eighteen year old let out a high pitched yelp and sat up straight in his chair for an instant before falling over sideway. There he lay, on the floor, twitching and shaking helplessly, while Trunks laughed his head off.

When Gohan was able to speak normally again, he proceeded to let loose a string of swear words that would have made Vegeta or Piccolo blanch. Trunks swallowed hard. Maybe pulling Gohan's tail wasn't such a great idea after all. When Gohan got mad, he got _mad._

Goten, in the meantime, was staring at his brother with a horrified expression on his face. "You said a bunch of bad words! I'm telling Mommy!"

"Shut up," Gohan snapped, climbing back into his chair. Getting his tail yanked always made him especially cranky, and woe to the person who tried to reason with him. He sighed, then went back to the really important stuff—namely, the meal in front of him.

A comfortable silence descended over the three children as they went about devouring their lunch. And for one moment, one split second, life was good. It was quiet, the sun was shining outside, and there were no raging aliens or indestructable monsters heading their way with the intentions of taking over and/or destroying the planet and enslaving and/or annihilating all of Earth's people. For that moment, all the world seemed to be at peace.

But as anyone who knows anime knows, when the world is at peace, something will happen.

And happen, something did.

A scream tore through the Capsule Corporation complex. It had a high enough frequency to shatter glass and Saiyan eardrums. The three children dropped their forks and covered their ears with their hands at the noise. It was awful!

Trunks looked up in horror. "That's my mom!" He jumped down from his chair, doing his best to ignore the ringing in his ears, and dove out of the room, following the shriek. Gohan and Goten were hot on his heels as he followed the many twists and turns that led him to where his mother was.

"Mom, are you okay?" Trunks asked, panting, as he slid into the room from whence the scream had originated. Namely, the bathroom.

Bulma Briefs was standing against the wall opposite the toilet, one hand clutched over her heart as she stared at the porcelain god with wide eyes.

When her son skidded into the room with his two friends in tow, she turned her head to look at them, and to their surprise, her eyes narrowed menacingly. "Would you care to explain this?"

Trunks took an involuntary step back. He knew that look. He had seen that look on his mom's face and in his mom's eyes in the seconds before she smacked his father with the Frying Pan or disconnected the Gravity Room or banished him to the couch or announced she would be cooking all his meals for a week (in other words, condemning him to starvation). It was not a good look to be on the receiving end of.

"E-explain what?" he was proud that he only stammered a little in spite of his sudden nervousness.

"That!" Bulma shrieked, jabbing a finger in the direction of the innocent looking toilet. It sat there, in all its white simplicity, as unthreatening as could be.

"Did Vegeta forget to flush again?" Gohan asked from over Trunks' shoulder, recalling a previous tirade of Bulma's over the annoying habits of her Saiyan mate.

"No, Gohan, he didn't," the Capsule Corp heiress said through clenched teeth. "You might want to look as well. All three of you. Then feel free to tell me what the HFIL you thought you were doing!"

Slowly, the three children moved towards the porcelain god, a little unsure of what they were going to see. Carefully, they leaned over and peered past the rim.

The bowl was crawling with what looked like lizards. Actually, Gohan recognized that they were not simple lizards, but salamanders. Not that he would actually say anything to that effect, though. He simply did what his two young friends were doing—stared down in a mixture of fascination and disgust at the sight of maybe half a dozen reptile type creatures crawling all over each other with the confines of the white ceramic bowl.

"Well?" Bulma snapped, tapping her foot impatiently. "Talk!"

"Bulma, we didn't do this," Gohan said, tearing his eyes away from the bowl to look at her. "We were eating lunch. You saw us, remember?"

"You could have set it up before then!" she screamed, her face reddening with rage. "You three have been nothing but trouble since you went chibi, Gohan. And I always thought you were the good one, but nooooo, you have to pull this kind of stuff. And what kind of influence do you think you are on my son, young man? Honestly, you three—"

"We didn't!" Gohan protested, though he knew it was in vain. The sad thing was that it was actually true. This was a brilliant prank, but they hadn't had anything to do with it! Which meant…

Gohan's thoughts were cut off as there was a splash beside him. He turned, and groaned.

Goten had gleefully reached into the toilet and grabbed one of the reptiles, which was now squirming and wiggling violently from within the prison of Goten's damp fist. "Lookie, big brother! I caught a lizard!" The small brown-green creature declined to comment, but merely kept flailing.

Bulma's face lost a bit of its scarlet color and adopted a slightly greener hue, Trunks stared in wide eyed astonishment, and Gohan smacked himself in the forehead. He could not _believe_ that his little brother had just stuck his hand into a toilet.

But Bulma quickly shook herself out of her slightly disgusted stupor and put one hand behind her back. "I can't believe you three. Pulling this kind of crap on Vegeta is one thing. Even I'll admit that he usually deserves it. But to pull a prank on ME!!!!" Her hand withdrew from behind her back, now clutching something she had retrieved from the astral pocket all mothers in the Z world seemed to possess.

A long, thin handle with a rubber grip, and then a ring of cast iron, about sixteen inches in diameter. The single most feared item in the world.

And the axe fell. Or rather, the Frying Pan of DOOM fell. Onto the children's heads, specifically.

It didn't take terribly long for Bulma to mete out punishment to the three innocent children. Okay, maybe innocent wasn't the best word to use to describe them, but in this case, it was the truth!

Rubbing their now aching skulls, the three children walked outside into the sunlight. About fifteen minutes ago, the bright, cheerful day had seemed a blessing. Now it was just annoying to three chibis who had just been punished for a crime they hadn't committed. Goten was still clinging to the salamander he had so dutifully retrieved from the toilet.

"You don't look too happy," a deep, gravelly voice commented with a hint of a laugh.

Gohan didn't even bother to look up. The shadow cast on the ground in front of him gave it away. "Shut up, Vegeta, and go away."

"Oh, you poor things," the Saiyan Prince laughed. He was leaning against the Gravity Room, arms folded across his chest in his typical stance. "Get in trouble again?"

Gohan was just about to retort when it clicked. The light bulb clicked on over his head and everything. He whirled, momentarily forgetting the pain in his head, and stared up at the proud Saiyan in furious realization. "It was you!"

Goten and Trunks stopped dead in their tracks and stared at Vegeta in amazement.

Vegeta threw his head back and laughed. "Turnabout is fair play, brats. And you can't prove that you didn't do it." Still cackling, he strolled back into his treasured Gravity Room; the door closed behind him, leaving three very angry chibis out on the Capsule Corporation lawn.

Trunks was staring blankly. "Wow…I knew my dad used to be evil, but…"

Goten looked confused.

Gohan's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "This isn't over, Vegeta. You seem to forget that I still have two and a half weeks left to torment you before I have to go back to being a boring adult again." He shook one fist in the air and turned his face to the sky as he yelled his next statement. "And mark my words, you will regret this injustice, Vegeta!"

"Keep it down out there!" Bulma's voice hollered.

"Sorry."

AN: Ah, yes, I have one more prank in mind for our beloved chibis to play. Hehe, you'll see. That'll probably be one of the very last chapters I post, though. Like I said, this fic is starting to come to a close. I'm just running out of ideas. *shrugs* Can't be helped. And the two and a half weeks allotted as the remaining time should be enough for me to use the chapter ideas I have left. I'm so mad…I can't find the list where I had all my ideas written out for this fic. *sigh* *feels depressed*

But I do take ideas/suggestions/the like for fics. And inspiration is just drying up for me in the DBZ genre. Everything feels really…I dunno, repetitive.

Next chapter…hehehe, Marron's back, and she's not sharing Gohan with anyone. Not even Videl. Woo, watch the fireworks!! Later!


	25. Love Triangle

**AN: **Sorry for the wait. Some things happened, I wasn't in a very humorous mood, and then I just had a distinct lack of motivation. A very huge GOMEN NASAI to everyone who had to wait for this chapter. I hope it meets with some approval *prays*

This fic really is winding down, just because I'm running out of ideas. As of this point in the story, Gohan has a week and a half-two weeks-ish left before the Dragonballs become active again. So maybe four, five more chapters (no promises) before the last official chapter, and then there will be a short epilogue, and then this will be done!!!

Anyway, here's the new chapter. Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers. I don't own DBZ. Oh yeah, and I borrowed a little idea or two for this chapter from the show "Family Guy." That show is freakin' hilarious, if you haven't seen it. You'll know the parts I mean—they'll be the parts that seem to be written by someone with ADHD because they make very little sense in the general scheme of the story. Strangely enough, I am attention deficit, so it works!!!

**Chapter Twenty-Five—Love Triangle**

It was early on a Saturday morning. It was a nice Saturday as well, the kind of Saturday that children dreamed about all week. The sun was shining, the air was warm but not too warm, there was a pleasant breeze blowing in, perfect for flying kites, and though there were clouds in the sky, they were as fluffy and white as could be, the ideal kind of clouds for finding funny shapes.

And Son Goten was no exception to such a day. In fact, the moment he woke up and saw the sunlight streaming in through the window, he did the normal thing for a child his age.

He reached over, shut the curtains to keep the sunlight out, and went back to sleep. Hey, it was only eight in the morning on a Saturday! He'd enjoy the day in another hour or so.

_An hour later…_

"SON GOTEN, IF YOU'RE NOT DOWN HERE IN FIVE MINUTES, NO BREAKFAST!!!"

No lesser threat from any lesser being could have stirred the seven year old demi Saiyan from his sleep any faster. Screw sleep—he was hungry!! Immediately awake, he jumped out of bed, threw on one of his trademark orange and blue gis, and was down in his chair at the table in record time, even for a Saiyan.

"Good morning, sweetie," ChiChi said cheerfully, showing no sign of the fierceness with which her voice had summoned him to the table. She set a loaded plate down in front of him, and another in front of Gohan, who had been in his seat long before Goten had made his mad dash down the stairs.

"So what do ya wanna do today, Gohan?" Goten chirped, shoveling the first mouthful into his waiting stomach. "Something fun, right?"

Gohan opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off by his mother. "Oh no you don't!" ChiChi declared, taking her own seat at the table. "Gohan, you have homework to do."

"Aw, but Mom—" Gohan started, but once again, he was unable to complete his intended statement because his mother bowled right over him.

"Don't 'but Mom' me, young man!" her eyes were blazing as she spoke. "You've been slacking off on your studies ever since that wish was made, and I've been more than lenient. But it's time to get caught up. You and your brother can do something when you're done, and not before." At the sad look on his face, she added, "Look at it this way. In a couple of weeks, you'll be back to your adult self. You won't have much left to do then, so you can go spend more time with Videl."

"MOM!!" Gohan yelped, but ChiChi didn't respond because she was following the example of her younger son and diving into her breakfast. Gohan pouted, but eventually figured if you can't beat 'em, you might as well join 'em, and picked up his fork.

Once the meal was over, Gohan was shooed up to his room for some quality time with his textbooks. Goten only stopped his protests when he was reminded that he and Gohan could go to the park or whatever after the homework was done, and if a certain seven year old didn't stop arguing, he wouldn't be allowed to go anywhere.

With not much else to do for the time being, the younger of the two Son boys headed outside.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Goten wandered the forest aimlessly, not really sure where exactly he was heading. He was mostly just killing some time until Gohan could get away from that schoolwork. Then Mom had said they could go to the park for a while before dinner.

With a heavy sigh, he continued his meanderings. Gohan was smart—the work probably wouldn't take that long, really. But to a seven year old, with a seven year old attention span, 'five minutes' is approximately equal to 'eternity,' in completely defiance of the laws of physics.

Finally growing bored with simply wandering, Goten sat down beside a large tree. It was only after he'd been sitting for a few minutes that he noticed something—there was a hole in the tree trunk. A large hole, actually. A large, dark hole. The perfect place for something to hide…

Curiousity overtook the small demi-Saiyan, and he leaned over and peered into the tree hole.

Two beady little black eyes peered back.

Goten let out a yelp as the owner of the eyes—namely, a racoon—suddenly jumped out and latched onto his face. The chibi stumbled backwards at the force of the attack and ended up flat on his back, rolling around on the ground, trying desperately to get the small masked creature off of him.

Finally, he managed to free himself from the cluthces of the racoon, and sent the animal running…well, actually more like _rocketing_ back into the trees.

Now safe from the clutches of the Evil Rodent of Death, Goten sprinted back towards the little house. He nearly managed to knock the door off its hinges as he exploded into the kitchen.

ChiChi was just finishing the dishes; she turned to him with a distinct lack of amusement on her face. She opened her mouth, undoubtedly with intent to scold, but then she noticed the scratches on Goten's face, and motherly instinct took over. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"A racoon jumped on my face," Goten said sheepisly. "He came out of a tree."

ChiChi managed to refrain from sighing and/or smacking the small child with a cooking tool. Instead, she simply said, "Clean yourself up. Your brother's almost done. Then you two can go."

Goten followed instructions, happy to have avoided any further bodily injury. The scratches he'd acquired in his short lived battle with the racoon weren't anything major, anyway. Feeling better, he went back down to the kitchen. "Mom, I'm thirsty. Can I have some juice?"

"It's in the fridge," ChiChi replied absently, her attention momentarily elsewhere.

Grinning, the spiky haired chibi skipped over to the cabinet and pulled out a glass. Then he headed to the refrigerator and opened the door, hoping there was still some orange juice in there—

—and was sent flying backwards as the Racoon of Evil came flying out of the fridge right at him, fixing itself to his hair.

"Goten, would you keep it down?" ChiChi admonished, not turning to look at him as he ran around, flailing and yelping, trying to pry the stupid animal off his head. "Your brother's trying to study."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Gohan stared at the textbook in front of him. He'd been staring at the same page for a good twenty minutes now, and couldn't have said what was typed on that page. He thought it might have been Chemistry, but he wasn't sure.

"This sucks," he sighed, putting his head down on the desk, on top of the book. "This excessively bites. I've only got two weeks left…why am I doing this?"

Instead of focusing, he let his mind wander. It meandered far away from his schoolwork, ending up in what he thought of as Evil Land, a place where he was free to be as immature and childish as he wanted. This was also the place where all the ideas for Vegeta directed pranks, big and small, had come from. The practical jokes he had become so famous for had all been born in this little, disturbing corner of his eighteen year old mind.

He only had two weeks left. He had to go out with a bang. There was still time to fit a couple of really good kickers in and make Vegeta's life a living HFIL before he was wished back. He sighed, and let himself drift off into thoughts of duct tape and hair dye…

"GOHAN, GET TO WORK!"

With a sigh at the Voice of DOOM's intrusion into his thoughts, he muttered the standard, "How does she do that?" And Gohan did as he was told, and went back to work.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I didn't think you were EVER gonna get done," Goten chirped as the two Son boys shot through the sky towards Satan City and the park lying therein.

"Me neither," Gohan replied. "But I did a little thinking while I was working, and I have a couple of ideas that I think you and Trunks will just love."

"Awesome!" Goten clapped his hands in delight. Brother had the best ideas! Even if Gohan's big ideas tended to result in frying pan punishment, they were worth it for the humor factor.

They landed just outside the city and then proceeded to race to Satan City Central Park, making it there in record time. The place was packed, mostly families with children enjoying the park's extensive playground and lawn areas. Naturally, Gohan and Goten headed for the playground area.

"Hey, guys!"

The two chibis turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Sure enough, Videl was jogging towards them. Unfortunately, Sharpner and Erasa were right behind her.

"Hey, we've met before, haven't we?" Erasa bubbled. "You're Gohan's cousin, right?"

"Uh, yeah!" Gohan said, remembering that day at the mall when his cover had nearly been blown.

"Cute as ever!" the blonde gushed. She probably would have gone on, but she was distracted by her boyfriend calling her over to the pretzel stand. "Be right back, sweetie!" And she left.

Now alone, Videl smiled. "How much longer do you have?"

"A little less than two weeks," Gohan said with a grin. "It's been interesting, to say the least…" His voice trailed off as his eyes widened in surprise and a touch of horror. He had just spotted Marron. But by the time he saw her, it was too late.

With a speed that would have made a Super Saiyan turn green with envy, she moved, closing the distance between them; her short little arms closed tightly around his neck.

"My sweet baboo!" she chirped. "It's been so long!"

Gohan didn't reply, mostly because he was busily trying to pry the small human child from around his throat, but as before, she had quite a grip for someone so small and so human. But finally, he managed to squeak out the standard response: "I am NOT your sweet baboo!"

Videl looked bewildered. "Uh, Gohan, who is this?"

"Marron," he choked, "Krillen's daughter."

The little blonde girl looked up at Videl then, and frowned. "Who are you?"

"My name's Videl," the teenager smiled.

Marron didn't smile back. "He's mine! You can't have him!"

Now Videl looked quite taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"He's mine! He's my sweet baboo, and you can't take him!" for a three year old, she was certainly quite defensive. "He's mine, and we're going to get married and live happily ever after."

Gohan had gone about six shades lighter than normal, and was still struggling valiantly to get out of the blonde child's death grip on his neck, still without much success.

Videl's brow creased as she frowned. "Excuse me, Marron, but I don't think—"

"HE'S MINE!!!!!" Marron shrieked, enough to shatter glass. Gohan stopped struggling and resorted to cringing, hands clenched over ears that were probably bleeding from the noise.

Enough was enough. Videl decided to fight back. "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!?"

And so the Great Contrived War of Who Got to Marry Gohan began. (*readers feel the urge to flame the author relentlessly*)

In the confusion, Gohan finally managed to slip free of Marron's grasp; he fell to the ground and rolled a few feet away before climbing back to his feet.

"Are you okay?" Goten asked in concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Gohan?"

"Yeah?"

"Girls are really weird."

"No kidding."

The conversation pretty much died as the two boys watched the heated argument going on in front of them. Videl and Marron were out for blood, it seemed, and people were stopping and starting to stare.

"WHY WOULD HE LIKE YOU?!? YOU'RE OLD!!!"

"YOU LITTLE BRAT!!"

"IT'S TRUE!!"

"WHY, I OUGHTA—"

Camera flashes started going off, and Gohan heard a few sounds that sounded an awful lot like reporters talking into tape recorders. So the press was here. Naturally, they would be. After all, Satan Videl, the daughter of Satan Hercule, the Hero of the World (note the capital letters), was standing in the middle of the park, having a very loud, screaming argument with a very small child. And the child was screeching right back. Something about a boy, from the sound of it. What news program or news letter wouldn't love to have this kind of story?

"I DON'T LIKE YOU!!" A soft thunking sound.

"OW! YOU LITTLE BRAT! KICK ME IN THE SHINS!!"

"'CAUSE I DON'T LIKE YOU!!"

The two women in the argument were reaching the passion point by now, and arms were starting to fly in highly energetic gestures. And woe to the person who was standing close enough to get smacked in the face by their waving arms.

Unfortunately, Gohan somehow managed to get a little too close, and Marron's small human hand made hard, upward contact with his nose. It wasn't so much the impact as the surprise that made him fly backwards, clutching his face.

She must have hit it at the right angle or something, because the little three year old human girl had actually done damage. A couple little drops of something red decorated Gohan's fingers where they had been grasping his nose.

"My dose iz bleedeng," Gohan almost whimpered.

"Here, I have some tissues," Videl said, reaching for her purse. She rarely carried one, but for some reason had opted to do so today.

She unzipped her purse—and the stupid racoon, the Rodent of Evil, jumped out and latched onto Goten's face with the ferocity of a Saiyan going after food.

Goten screamed and fell to the ground, where he began rolling around, desperately trying to pry the masked rodent from his head. Gohan was laughing his head off, and Videl was trying valiantly to help remove the racoon, though she wasn't having much luck. Goten was moving around too much. But still Videl tried to be the hero, and save her adoptive younger brother from the Masked Bandit, El Rodento.

"Now that's a woman," Sharpner muttered approvingly. "And that's a house," he continued as the child over whose shoulder he was looking turned a page in her picture book. "And that's a cat. That's a car. And that's a bee!" (*readers shake their heads, flame the author, and leave*)

While Sharpner was happily reading above his normal level, Videl and Goten finally managed to get the racoon off Goten's face. Gohan wasn't helping much because he was keeping the tissues clamped over his bleeding nose, and because Marron had reattached herself to him while Videl was distracted.

"Marron, could you please let go?" he begged, wrenching his arm free.

To his surprise, she started to whimper, and a few tears rolled down her face. "Do you love me?"

As a friend and a little sister, yes. Not as a girlfriend. There were laws against that kind of thing. But he couldn't bring himself to say that to the tearful three year old in front of him.

He compromised. "I love you like a sister." Except his speech was a little more nasal and a little harder to understand because he was still holding his bleeding nose. The author is just too lazy to try and sound it out.

She reacted pretty much how he had expected. Her face went blank in confusion.

It was then that Gohan noticed someone watching them carefully. This someone had an expression of intent amusement on his face, and he chuckled as he realized that he had finally been noticed.

"And you just sat there and watched?" Gohan said incredulously.

Krillen scooped up Marron, who was still reaching out to try and grab her beloved, and laughed at Gohan's question. "Of course I did. You think I'd miss an opportunity like this?"

Gohan silently made a note to start a hit list, with Krillen as the first name on there.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"So how was the park?" ChiChi asked as her two children came into the house. She was busily setting the table for dinner. Imagine her shock when her sons appeared in the kitchen doorway, both looking like they had been repeatedly run over with heavy construction vehicles. "What happened?"

"Marron decided she's in love with me, and got into an argument with Videl about it," Gohan said; he sounded fatigued. "Then she accidentally smacked me in the face and gave me a bloody nose, and Krillen just stood there and laughed."

"And the racoon attacked me again," Goten added, equally miserable.

ChiChi studied the two boys for a moment. They were telling the truth, she knew that much. "Well, go clean up for dinner." They meekly obeyed, and the minute they were out of the room, the matriarch had a very good chuckle. "Those two…"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I'm sooooo tired…" Goten murmured, pushing his bedroom door closed. It had been a long, long day for the chibi, and he was determined to crawl under the covers and sleep until it was time to gather the Dragonballs and wish Gohan back to normal.

Rubbing sleepily at his eyes (kawaii!), he trudged to his bed and pulled back the blanket.

A pair of beady little eyes, ringed with black, peered up at him.

"Aw, crap," Goten managed to choke before the racoon attacked again. And the chibi's horrified scream filled the house, echoing into the night.

AN: Don't ask me why I put the racoon in there. I just thought it was kind of funny. Same goes for the Sharpner, "That's a woman. And that's a house…" thing. Sorry if my sense of humor is too bizarre for anyone else to understand. But man, this ended up kind of weird…

Wow, this story is gonna be a year old in a couple of months. Kinda scary, ain't it? I don't think I've ever had a story go on that long. Anyway, hopefully I'll update a little faster for the next chapter.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. There will be TWO more prank chapters squeezed into the end of the fic instead of one, as I previously advertised, heehee. Count them with me: ONE, TWO!!!! I love my prank chapters, they're the most fun ones to write!

Also, I think I'm gonna do a side-story to this fic. Someone made a request for a Christmas chapter, and I already stretched time out really weird to accommodate a Halloween chapter, so I'm planning to do a Christmas one-shot as a kind of spin off. So keep your eyes peeled ^_^ Ja ne!!!


	26. The Prank, Part V

**AN: **I would have posted this earlier, but I have having a few internet problems. Like, I couldn't get online? Yeah. I wasn't happy. But anyway, I'm back, and here is the new chapter. 

Ohmigod, almost 500 reviews!! SQUEE!!! I love you all! IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!!! *all readers with any sense run away screaming into the woods* Enjoy, everybody! I don't own Dragonball Z. Blah.

**Chapter Twenty-Seven—The Prank, Part V**

Gohan and Goten sat by the window, side by side. Both wearing exactly the same outfit—the standard blue and orange gi so favored by their father—and both were sitting in the exact same position at the windowsill: elbows on the ledge, chin in hands, gazing out the window. Identical blank, emotionless expressions were pasted on the children's face as they stared at the rain falling beyond the pane of glass.

It was bordering on creepy. The two brothers could almost have passed as identical twin statues, positioned to gaze vacantly out the window at the storm.

"Gohan?" Goten finally broke the heavy silence they had been cloaked in for nearly an hour.

Gohan heaved a very heavy sigh. "What?"

"I'm bored."

"Me, too."

"I hate the rain."

"I know."

"It sucks"

"Yeah."

"Let's do something."

"Okay."

"What should we do?"

"I dunno…"

The silence returned. About fifteen minutes later, the conversation repeated itself, and the quiet fell yet again. The entire scenario played over and over again for another half an hour. It was just a boring, gray, dreary day, where nothing seemed like something to do.

ChiChi, laundry basket balanced against her hip, strolled through the living room, and stopped dead in her tracks. She had been through the room earlier, and they had been sitting there. It was now half an hour later, her second trip past them, and to her eye, they hadn't moved an inch. She set down her laundry basket and, after doing a quick visual check to make sure they were still breathing, did the only truly ChiChi thing for that situation.

"MOVE IT!" she screeched, mere inches from their ears.

The desired result was achieved. Both children jumped several feet into the air, high enough to actually hit their heads on the ceiling. Thankfully, they didn't bang the ceiling hard enough to crack it or leave dents. It hurt like hell, but the house remained undamaged. ChiChi probably would have done far worse than simply yell in their ears.

Rubbing their now-aching craniums, the two demi-Saiyan children floated back down to the ground; their descent was far more controlled than their ascent. They landed, grumbling a little, in front of their mother, who looked down at them with an expression that lay right on the knife-edge between mild amusement and mild irritation.

"How long have you two been sitting there?" ChiChi demanded, crossing her arms across her chest. There was no sign of the Holy Frying Pan of Doom and Terror, but that didn't mean that it wouldn't pull one of its legendary appearances and materialize out of thin air.

Gohan blinked owlishly at her, still rubbing his skull. His mind was a little fuzzy, and he wasn't really sure how long they'd been like that, so he did the only thing he could think of. He shrugged.

ChiChi sighed. "Go to Capsule Corp. Now. I'll call Bulma and tell her you're coming. Trunks will probably be happy to have something to do today. Go get your rain coats."

Gohan and Goten both cheered exponentially at her order. They had pretty much resigned themselves to being assigned chores for the rest of the afternoon. Instead, they were being given a nice open invitation to make a little trouble. How deliciously evil.

Five minutes later, they had been bundled up into their nice, waterproof raincoats, and were airborne, shooting eagerly towards the promise of untold mischief that lay at that magical place called Capsule Corporation.

They landed and made it to the enormous domed building in record time, considering that they were stopping to jump in puddles every few seconds. They banged on the door, which was opened almost instantly by a very happy Trunks.

"Thank Kami you guys are here!" the lavender haired chibi cried as he ushered them in and relieved them of their damp raingear. "I've been going nuts! All Dad wants to do is train, and Mom said I can't, 'cause I'll 'catch my death of cold' or something like that."

"No kidding," Goten returned, kicking off his wet boots. "I think we were driving Mom nuts or something, 'cause she screamed at us, and then sent us over here. But she didn't get the Pan out."

Trunks' blue eyes widened at that last statement. "No Pan? Maybe she's sick."

"Nah," Gohan entered the conversation. "I think she just wanted us to do something other than stare out the window all day, which is what we were doing. But anyway, now we're here. What do you guys want to do?"

The question itself was fairly innocent, but there was a gleam in Gohan's eye that revealed what he was really asking, the translation that one could pick up from his simple statement if one read between the lines. What he really wanted to know was _How__ are we going to get in trouble today?_

The terrible trio looked at each other, and all three smiled evilly.

It was time for payback.

Vegeta was going down.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Here it is," Trunks said. He had been digging in his closet, and finally, he found what he had so desperately been seeking. He passed it to Gohan, who looked like a religious fanatic who had just been handed the holiest of artifacts.

The demonic chibi turned over the object in his hand. His prize, his treasure, an object of the utmost value and beauty. It was also a tool, the instrument of vengeance upon one, Vegeta, Prince of the Saiyan race, pain in the neck extraordinaire.

Having gathered their supplies, they headed towards the white dome behind the massive Capsule Corporation, Vegeta's favored haunting ground. Fortunately, the Saiyan was nowhere in sight, allowing them open access to arrange their plan.

"So you're sure this'll work?" Trunks asked as they continued to lay their trap. The Gravity Room had been their favored place of prankhood before, and it wasn't going to let them down now. This was to be the site of their greatest practical joke.

After all, there were certain things that even a Saiyan's super strength couldn't stand up to. The Pan, for example. This, they knew, was another of those things. Oh yes, Vegeta was going to suffer for letting them take the fall for that 'salamander in the toilet' incident.

The rain continued to fall, but Gohan, Goten, and Trunks cheerfully ignored the fact that they were getting very wet, and crouched down to hide, waiting for their prey to finish his lunch, emerge from his lair and walk into their trap.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

His stomach full, Vegeta stormed out of the house, completely ignoring the rain that plummeted to the ground around him. Saiyan Princes didn't let themselves be bothered by such petty things as rain.

Growling unintelligbly under his breath, he pushed the button that opened the door to his treasured Gravity Room, his personal stomping grounds, the joy of his existence second only to the stupid woman and the stupid brat—not that he would ever admit that, not even under torture.

The door opened, revealing that the lights were off in the room; it was completely dark. That didn't bother Vegeta. Saiyan Princes were not afraid of the dark. Apparently, there were a lot of negatives that applied to being a Saiyan Prince. It was a tough job, but someone had to do it.

As he stepped into the room, he casually reached over with one gloved hand and flipped the lightswitch. The lights came on, but it was too late. With that first step into the room, Vegeta had already fallen into the trap laid by the brats who called themselves Saiyan.

Namely, his feet were stuck to the floor. He let out a yell and tried to pull his foot free, but it wouldn't give. As he stumbled, his other foot became immobile as it, too, formed a lovely bond with the floor. This made him weave back and forth even more, until finally, he couldn't keep his balance anymore, and tumbled quite unceremoniously to the ground. There was nothing dignified about it. He just fell straight over, and now the substance that had so captured his feet was all over the rest of him as well.

It seemed like the more he flailed and struggled, the more stuck he became. The crap got onto his arms, around his body, ensnared itself in his legs, and, most insulting of all, developed a particularly strong attachment to his hair. And nothing was getting him free.

He was about ready to try a ki blast when he heard that infernal laughter. The damnable giggling of small children who had just pulled off another successful prank on someone who they should never have been able to pull a joke on.

Vegeta managed to move his head up enough to see Gohan, Goten, and Trunks standing in the doorway of the Gravity Room, laughing their annoying little heads off. And this angered Vegeta. This angered him beyond reason and almost beyond coherence.

"What…is…this?" he growled, though his words were barely understandable.

Still cackling devilishly, Gohan held up something round and thick, about the size of a donut. It was dull silver in color. "This, Vegeta, is something we Earthlings like to call duct tape. It's a wonderful invention, the handyman's secret weapon, and it's probably one of the only things on this planet strong enough to stand up to even Saiyan strength."

Goten stopped laughing long enough to add, "We covered the room with it, sticky side out."

"Yeah, Dad," Trunks chortled. "You're stuck, big time!"

Vegeta let out a slightly muffled roar, still struggling against the binding force of the unholy silvery substance, but he was still stuck fast. Whatever this stuff was, it was stronger than anything he had ever before encountered. The possibilities of this stuff…would have to wait. First he had to get out and brutally murder the three slightly damp chibis who called themselves the Order of the Prank.

And then they decided to add insult to injury. Actually, there was injury, since that sticky crap was thoroughly tangled into Vegeta's hair, and would most likely be somewhat painful to remove. But that was nothing when compared to the mortal affront they were to bring upon him.

Gohan pulled out a camera and began taking pictures. Lots and lots of pictures.

"Oh, that's nice! Wonderful!" the eighteen year old chibi laughed, floating over the enraged Saiyan, snapping shot after shot. "Make love to the camera! Work with me, baby! Work with me!" The flash only served to further aggravate Vegeta. "I think I'll call this picture 'Blackmail.' It has a very nice ring to it, don't you think, Vegeta?"

With a roar, the Saiyan Prince flared his ki and made the transition to Super Saiyan. He resumed his struggle, and felt the damnable crap begin to give a little under the newly added pressure. So it wasn't completely unbreakable. Maybe, with just a little more…

Vegeta let out an angry howl and skyrocketed up to Super Saiyan Level Two. Ironically enough, the level that Gohan himself had discovered by first reaching it during the Cell Games. And now, that level would be Gohan's downfall.

The duct tape began to give more, and Vegeta began to struggle valiantly. After a few seconds, he felt his arm suddenly pull loose. He looked up, and saw the look of shock that crossed Gohan's face. The three chibis turned to flee. Gohan, being the closest, was in the most immediate danger, and he took precautions to protect the evidence; he tossed the camera to Trunks.

But escape was not in the cards for Son Gohan.

Vegeta reached out with his newly freed arm, and grabbed. A stab of victory surged through him as he felt his fingers close around something slender.

Namely, Gohan's tail.

Grinning maniacally, the Saiyan Prince pulled as hard as he could, and took no small amount of delight in Gohan's high-pitched shriek of pain, though it hurt his ears considerably. But that was nothing compared to what was to come next.

He heard a loud ripping sound, and Gohan's scream jumped three octaves higher.

Nearby, windows shattered, fire hydrants exploded into fountains, sirens went off, babies started to wail, dogs keeled over and died, and people threw open their doors and windows and stuck their heads out to ask what the hell happened. Opera stars, holding their tridents and wearing their helmets with Viking horns on them, turned shades of envious green that would have put Piccolo to shame.

Son Gohan fell face-down to the ground, unconscious. And Vegeta was left holding what looked like a limp piece of fuzzy brown rope. Gohan's tail had ripped clean off in Vegeta's hand.

At the sound of the scream, Bulma came flying out of the house. She had paused only long enough to grab an umbrella before dashing outside to see what had happened. She flew into the Gravity Room, and was greeted with the sight of Vegeta, enraged Super Saiyan extraordinaire, encased in duct tape on the floor, and Gohan unconscious a couple of feet away. Fortunately, neither she nor Gohan had fallen prey to the sticky gray stuff because Vegeta had managed to pick up most of the stuff from the doorway.

"Gohan!" she fell to her knees and carefully scooped the comatose chibi into her arms, giving him a slight shake to try and wake him up. He didn't respond. "What in the name of Kami happened here?" she demanded, turning on the next visible target: Vegeta.

"Those brats did this, woman!" he roared back, pulling his other arm free of the demonic tape.

Bulma wheeled around. "Goten! Trunks! In here! Now!"

Meekly, they obeyed. They stood before the irate woman, hands clasped behind their backs; judging from the angle of their eyes, they were conducting an extremely in-depth study of the Gravity Room's floor. Goten and Trunks were the very picture of humility.

"Explain. Now. Or else," she punctuated the words to make it quite clear that unless there was a very, _very_ good explanation, there was going to be HFIL to pay.

"Well, he brought it on himself!" Trunks half-whined.

"What do you mean, 'he brought it on himself?'" Bulma couldn't help but snap. In her arms, Gohan started to moan a little bit. He sounded like he was in pain.

"Well, he set us up with the lizards in the toilet!" Goten joined in, though his voice was more of a whimper than anything else. "We didn't do that!"

"Is this true, Vegeta?" Bulma demanded.

He muttered something she didn't _quite_ catch, but it sounded like Vegeta was swearing in a mixture of Japanese, Namekian, and remarkably fluent Saiyan. By now, he had just finished prying the hellish duct tape from his legs, and was setting about the painful task of freeing his hair.

Gohan's eyes fluttered open. "I hurt…" he whimpered. "I hurt a lot…" Bulma set him down, and he ended up having to lean heavily on Goten for support.

"Stand over there," Bulma pointed. "By Vegeta." The three chibis obeyed, more afraid of what she could do to them then of what tortures Vegeta might be able to concoct for them. Bulma then took a couple of steps away from them, standing with her back to them. "I'm very disappointed in all of you." With that, she walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

The four Saiyans stared at the door in blank shock. No punishment? No screaming? No Frying Pan of Doom and Terror being swung at their heads with enough force to kill an elephant? They all slowly turned and looked at each other in amazement. They were getting off this time?

"I don't believe it," Trunks breathed in awe.

"Well, let's get out of here," Goten suggested. "She probably went to call my mom or something."

He half-dragged Gohan to the door, where they made a very unpleasant discovery. By unpleasant, it meant that it ranked right up there with there being no more food left anywhere in the world, it was that big of a natural disaster.

The door was locked. From the outside.

"Uh, guys," Trunks said, trying again. Nothing. "This is not good."

Bulma's voice came on over a speaker she had long ago installed in the room. "You four have fun. I'll be back to let you out in an hour." Vegeta growled and prepared a ki blast, probably with the intention of blowing a hole in the wall. "And Vegeta," her voice came back, "you damage the Gravity Room, I won't fix it for a month, and you'll be sleeping on the couch until it's fixed. So enjoy your quality time, boys." And the speaker went silent.

The four Saiyans turned and looked at each other again. This was not good…

_One hour later…_

Humming to herself, Bulma unfolded her umbrella over her head and strolled out to the Gravity Room, where she had earlier left four Saiyans as punishment. As she drew near, though, she noticed something very, very odd.

It was dead silent. She couldn't hear any noise coming from inside the room.

Steeling herself, she opened the door and peered inside.

And had to put a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

The four Saiyans—four of the most powerful beings alive—were sound asleep on the floor. Vegeta was laid out neatly on his back, while Trunks was curled up into a ball beside him. Gohan was laying on his side, and Goten was using Gohan's back as a pillow. There was a small damp spot on the back of Gohan's gi, right under Goten's chin.

_Poor boys, _Bulma thought with just a hint of sarcasm. _Probably couldn't even fight because of all that stupid duct tape. They would have gotten stuck beyond anyone's help. Oh well, might as well let them sleep. It's probably the only quiet I'll get today._

Smiling to herself, she pushed the door most of the way closed, but left it open a mere crack, so that when they woke up, they would know that they were freed from their punishment. Then she returned to her lab, with every intention of expanding on the boys' idea. Duct tape truly was a marvelous thing, and she knew she could improve on it to the point where not even Vegeta's Super Saiyan Level Two would be able to break through it.

Gohan, Goten, Vegeta, and Trunks woke up half an hour later, saw their opportunity at freedom, and took it. Once they were outside, Vegeta proceeded to beat the chibis into the ground, and sent Gohan and Goten home cut up, bruised, and bleeding, though alive. ChiChi naturally raised holy hell before she fed them and sent them to bed.

And much to Gohan's chagrin, it was supposed to keep raining for the next couple of days.

AN: Yay rah, it's done! There will be one more prank after this. I already know what it is, and I have a feeling it will be a chapter to be proud of. Actually, it's one of those things I've known was going to be in the story since I started planning the story out. Heeheehee! *shifty eyes* I'm hoping no one will be disappointed by it, but there will be a couple more chapters before we get to that.

I'm figuring anywhere from five to seven more chapters to this fic. I have a few ideas left to use before I put this fic to bed. Hard to believe, but this story is going to be a year old in three months, I think. Wow, I've never had a fic go on quite this long. Blame my schedule for the occasionally lousy updates.

Oh yeah, and the 500th reviewer gets a very fabulous, very mysterious prize. It's so secret that I don't even know what it is yet, or if they'll ever even get it, just because if I gave it to them, the secret would be out. Well, thanks for reading and thanks for reviewing! Ja ne!


	27. In Time of Silver Rain

**AN: **Hey, everybody! *waves* *crickets chirp* Ummm…yeah. Sorry it's been a while, but I've been busy. Let's just say I'm not getting much sleep as of late. So this chapter is going to be short, and (for once) not all humor. I'd almost call it a filler, but not quite.

Almost all of Gohan's adventures in this fic have been the extreme on the (hopefully) humorous end of the scale. Well, there are a few far simpler pleasures of being a child, and this very short chapter is going to highlight one of those, one of my favorites. I still like doing this sometimes ^_^ Even though I can't lately, because it's snowing. Again…*shakes fist angrily at the sky*

I hope you enjoy, even if it isn't as humorous as the other chapters in this story. I don't own DBZ, and the beautiful poem used in this chapter is the sole property of Langston Hughes.

**Chapter Twenty-Eight—In Time of Silver Rain**

_In time of silver rain  
The earth  
Puts forth new life again,  
Green grasses grow  
And flowers lift their heads,  
And over all the plain  
The wonder spreads  
Of life_

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Gohan was sick of the rain. It had been pouring nonstop for nearly two days straight now.

He didn't have much time left before they would regather the Dragonballs and make the wish that would set things right again. He would be his old, eighteen year old self again, and all would be blissfully well with the world. Except he'd have to go back to school, but hey, one couldn't have everything one wanted, now could one?

But he had nothing to do. His homework was done. Goten was in his room, playing with his action figures. Probably another of his favorite games, 'Videl and Great Saiyaman Save the City, and Then Get Married So Goten Can Have a Big Sister.' Gohan wasn't sure who he needed to have a word with: his brother, or his mother. Neither would probably have any effect.

But the point was that Gohan was flat-out bored. And there didn't seem to be anything he could to alleviate that boredom. So he sat on his bed, arms on the windowsill, chin resting on folded hands, staring blankly out the window at the precipitation. He could almost feel his brain beginning to liquify from lack of use. And any minute now, he expected that brain, the very organ he had spent so many years bulking up under his mother's cracking whip…er, guidance…to come oozing out his ears in its liquid form.

Not pleasant.

Such was the state he was in when he became vaguely aware of his bedroom door opening.

"Gohan, are you all right?" his mother's voice asked from the door behind him.

"I'm bored!" he flopped his arms dejectedly. "I don't know what to do. I'm just restless."

ChiChi was silent for a moment as he turned back to the window. Her first instinct was to assign him a few chores. But something wouldn't let her tell him to clean his room or help her fold the laundry. Instead, she tilted her head to the side thoughtfully, and said, "Why don't you go outside?"

Gohan's head snapped around so fast that she could have sworn she heard it crack. "Really? I can?" He had good reason to be shocked, too. Son ChiChi was one of those mothers who had a strong dislike for those who dared to drip water on her nice clean floor, and as such, it was usually accepted that no one went outside in the rain.

Goku had made that mistake once. And only once. And he had committed the crime of dripping the Water of Evil on the Sacred Kitchen Floor of Cleanliness. And he had paid the ultimate price in the Son family. The matriarch had presented him with his punishment: a heavey-duty smack in the head with the Hallowed Frying Pan of Holiness.

So when ChiChi made the suggestion that her son go outside and frolick in the rain, she was doing so at her own risk, so to speak. That was the reason for his utter shock.

"I just said you could, didn't I?" ChiChi's response was slightly amused. "And take Goten with you. He needs to get out of that room for a while. I think he's talking to himself in there."

That was all the encouragement that Gohan needed. In a single bound, he was off the bed and across the room. He paused briefly to throw his arms around his mother's waist and say "Thank you!" Then he was out of the room and into the hallway, bounding towards his little brother's room.

Approximately thirty seconds later, the two Son boys were running across a rain-soaked field, without raincoats, hats, boots, or anything else to protect them from the weather. They had actually left through Goten's bedroom window in order to achieve just that—freedom. Simple, primal freedom.

And they had already decided on a location. If they were allowed to be out in the rain, they were going to do it right, no holds barred, and get as soaked as possible. So there was really only one place they could go to really accomplish that.

"Woo hoo!" Goten laughed as he leapt into the air—and landed with a splash in their favorite pond. The water surged upwards with his entrance, and he surfaced a moment later, shaking the water from his eyes. "This is awesome!"

With a Tarzan-esque screech, Gohan did the only dive he knew how to do: the Cannonball. His entrance into the water created an even bigger splash than Goten's had. But unlike Goten, Gohan didn't surface right away. He stayed beneath the surface.

By slightly moving his arms and legs, Gohan propelled himself forward. He had gone swimming in this pond many a time in his day, but somehow, it was more magical to rediscover things as a child again, even though he was technically an adult. It didn't dampen things a bit, pardon the pun.

And with his training, he could hold his breath for quite a long time, so he could really take a good look around, and re-explore the underwater world while the rain fell above. If he looked up, he could see the little ripple effects where the precipitation was falling.

It was surprisingly clear under the water. He had no trouble seeing around him. To many, it would have been boring. To Gohan's inquisitive mind, and trained eye, it was a veritable wonderland.

The bottom of this particular pond was soft and sandy; he knew that from experience. And the floor was littered with things. Tree branches that had broken off in past storms, stones worn as smooth and shiny as mirrors, and a plethora of other little treasures. Fish swam by, some stopping to look at him curiously before zipping off to hide in the underwater foliage.

For what seemed like forever, the chibi swam around, not really looking at anything in particular, but just looking for the sake of looking. It was so peaceful, so relaxing…

Suddenly, Gohan became aware of something unusual, and slightly alarming. His lungs were burning. And it hurt like hell. He was running out of air. How long had he been down there?!?

_Crap! _he let out a mental yelp, and made for the surface. It wouldn't do any good for him to drown. He'd never get back to his eighteen year old self then. And plus, it would be pretty damn pathetic. He was Son Gohan, half-Saiyan, one of the strongest beings ever to have lived, the son of the legendary martial artist Son Goku. It would be pretty damn sad if he was found, the victim of a glorified puddle.

Unfortunately, something was in front of Gohan, blocking his way to the surface.

And that something was Goten.

Gohan broke the surface right under his brother, and the expected happened. The younger of the Son boys let out a little yell as he was thrown upwards and backwards; he ended up landing on his back in the water and sinking like a stone. He surfaced a second later, and the two boys began treading water as they both gasped and sputtered and hacked up water.

"Good Kami, Goten!" Gohan wheezed, a touch of anger coloring his voice. "Do not float above me when I'm dying the abyss!" Goten coughed and glared in response.

Once they were both breathing normally again, and all the water had been unceremoniously hacked up (and they had repeatedly dunked each other in retaliation), the swim resumed. The water around them rippled, dancing to the beat of the raindrops touching the surface.

But unfortunately, Mother Nature had other ideas. Though those plans didn't involve a frying pan *shudder* they were somewhat unpleasant in a different respect. She decided to make the temperature drop a bit. Okay, maybe more than a bit…

Okay, maybe a lot.

"Brrrr…" Goten shivered. "It's cold." He clambered onto the muddy bank, ignoring the fact that his orange and blue gi had acquired a nice brown stain. There he sat, shivering, trying to get some warmth back into his extremities.

Gohan followed suit, similiarly shaking (alliteration!). "Yeah, it just got colder. Maybe we should head home…" But no sooner were the words out of his mouth then did he hear the second most terrifying sound in the world. The first most terrifying sound, of course, was the sound of air being displaced by a frying pan in motion. But the second most terrifying noise…

"GOHAN! GOTEN! HOME! NOW!" the Voice of DOOM rumbled across the sky, like thunder. As if to accent the horrifying sound, a streak of lightning crackled through the clouds overhead.

Put it this way: Instant Transmission couldn't have beaten them back to the Son house. They arrived in record time, moving so fast that even the raindrops could barely touch them. And then skidded to a halt outside the front door, and hunched over, gasping for air. Both were soaked and muddy.

The door opened, and ChiChi stuck her head out. She looked as though she was going to say something, but stopped short when she saw her sons. "Oh. I was just about to call you." Her brow knitted in a frown. "You had both better change before dinner."

"But…you…Voice…DOOM…" Gohan stammered and wheezed as his mother turned and sauntered back into her cozy little home. He watched her retreating back, then turned to his brother and said…oh, come on. Do I really have to tell you? *sigh* Fine…

"How does she do that?!?"

*the author's inbox is suddenly filled with flames*

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**AN: **…yeah, I know. Not as humorous or as long as the other chapters, but still a valid part of childhood. Consider this more of a filler than anything else. I just felt bad for not updating for so long. It's been hectic, with midterms and everything. I'm going crazy.

Next chapter, I really have no idea what's going to happen. I'll figure it out soon…hopefully. I'm probably going to bring Goku back for another cameo before this story ends, though. Nothing major, just a goofy little idea I've been nursing for a while now.

Oh yeah, one more thing! I'm headlong into what is most likely going to be a three part fic. That's right, folks, it's the Once Upon a Chibi OVA or movie of shorts. The title is **A Very Chibi Christmas.** I think the title says it all. Hopefully, I'll get the first chapter of that up soon. I've stretched the timeline of this story far enough as it is, with both a prom chapter and a Halloween chapter, so I'm doing Christmas as a separate piece. So keep your eyes peeled!

Until next time, ja ne!


	28. Splish Splash

**AN: **Whew…can you believe it? This story is a whole year old! *singing* Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear incredibly awesome cool fic, happy birthday to you!!! *everyone runs away screaming at the sound of the horrendous noise* Anyhoo, I'm sorry I'm getting so slow with updates. I used to post, like, every other day, so remember those days and be grateful! And hey, at least I haven't abandoned this fic ^_^

So here we go. This chapter highlights on yet another simple, yet essential part of childhood. At least, it was for me. This is one thing about being a kid that I miss a lot! On we go! I don't own DBZ.

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**Chapter Twenty-Nine—Splish Splash**

The concrete was cold; the chill, coupled with the fairly rough texture of the stone, sent shivers down his spine. It was somewhat paradoxal. The rain had finally stopped, and the sun was shining. Yet here, in the shade, it was still bordering on being cold.

His tongue swept over dry lips in a vain attempt to moisten them. One hand clasped his weapon at his side; the other was clenched into a fist, so tightly that his knuckles were snowy white. A nervous bead of cold sweat ran down the back of his neck. He pressed flat against the cement wall, trying to make himself as invisible as possible to whoever was on the other side of that corner. This was it…

With a yell, he raised his weapon, and leapt around the corner, prepared to strike.

Unfortunately, his opponent struck first.

Son Gohan was hit, and he was surprised enough to fall over, ending up sprawled on his back on the ground. His weapon clattered noisily to the earth beside him. Above him, he could hear gleeful cackles.

"Honestly," Gohan sat up, wiping icy water out of his eyes. "That was a cheap shot."

Trunks grinned broadly, slinging his own weapon casually over his shoulder. "Aw, don't be a bad sport." He frowned then. "Hang on, I need to refill. The tank's empty." With that, Trunks turned away to reload his weapon—namely, his Super Soaker.

Muttering unkind things under his breath, Gohan got back to his feet and retrieved his own water gun. It had fallen to the concrete, but seemed to be unharmed. Still grumbling rude things about Trunks' parentage (after checking to make sure that said parentage wasn't anywhere within hearing distance), he followed to also make sure his Super Soaker was full.

With the absence of the rain, and so little time left before Gohan's return to semi-adulthood, the Trio of Terror had decided that it was an ideal day to play outside. And what better way to celebrate warm weather than with an all-out day of water fights and swimming?

So far today, they had gone swimming (at a pool with a waterslide, no less), and played in the sprinkler—a special Capsule Corporation-designed sprinkler, especially for children; it changed the direction of the spouting water randomly, often soaking those who weren't anywhere near the sprinkler. Bulma had designed it to get Vegeta. And now, after that last surprise attack on Gohan, the three decided to engage in some other form of water-related activity. A classic favorite—the Slip 'N' Slide!!

It didn't take them long to lay out the long, yellow chute and drive in the stakes that held it down. It took them even less time to fill the pool at the end and attach the hose. When they turned on the water, water spurted from the sides, effectively soaked the chute.

Goten took the first dive. A small jogging start (since a running start would probably end up with him somewhere on the other side of town, given Saiyan speed), and then he dove onto his stomach, slipping 'n' sliding all the way down to the other end, where he ended up in the pool. "Waa-hoooo!!!"

The chibis screamed with delight as they took turns going down the slide—on their stomachs, on their backs, and Trunks even tried it sideways. It was a happy time for all!

At least, it was until something relatively expected happened.

Suddenly, the Gravity Room door opened, and Vegeta's head popped out. "Would you keep it down out there!" he roared. "Damn brats!" The door closed again, and he was gone.

Gohan, Goten, and Trunks simply stared at the dome. Then, their faces broke out in evil grins. Well, two of them did, anyway. Goten's face fell at the idea that their fun was being interrupted. But Gohan and Trunks simultaneously had the same idea.

"This is going to be good…" Gohan cackled evilly.

"But Gohan," Goten protested with a sniffle, "Vegeta said we had to stop…"

"Goten, I have an idea," Gohan managed to keep a civil tone; it was one of the few times in his life he was ready to strangle or otherwise inflict mild bodily harm on his younger brother. So, for the sake of preserving his own sanity, he dealt with it in the best way he knew how. At least, the best way he knew how that wouldn't result in massive bloodshed on the part of one or more parties. "Let's play the Quiet Game, okay? You go first."

Goten clammed up instantly.

"Okay then," Gohan nodded his approval and returned to the task at hand—planning. "Now, here's what we're gonna do…" Much whispering, arguing, and plotting later, the three moved into position.

"Okay, now Goten, you're in charge of luring Vegeta out here, just like we talked about, and—what?" Much to Gohan's surprise, his little brother was shaking his head 'no.' "You won't do it?" Negative. "Ooookay…how about you and Trunks switch places then? You know what Trunks was going to do, right?" A nod. "Good. Okay. That'll work." The three moved into position. "Okay, let 'er rip!"

Trunks took a deep breath—and let out a yell that was probably capable of killing small animals. Gohan and Goten crouched down, fully prepared to strike.

The noise had the desired effect—the Saiyan Prince surged out of the Gravity Room. "What did I tell you about—ACK!" That last, rather undignified sound was the result of three demi-Saiyan children jumping on his back, sending him flying forward onto something long, yellow, and extremely slippery.

There was a splash, and the children let out loud whoops and hollers at the success. Trunks even grabbed his water gun and fired a few victory rounds into the air. And Gohan, infinitely intelligent, took advantage of Vegeta's momentarily shock to whip out his trusty camera.

Gohan was to add a new photograph to his bedroom wall that night: Vegeta, splayed out in the yellow inflatable pool-thing at the end of the Slip 'N' Slide. Water dripping from his decidedly odd hairdo, and barely suppressable rage burning from his eyes, like Piccolo's laser beam thingies. Only less deadly. Maybe. Slightly.

But before he could hang that picture on his wall (right beside the one of Vegeta crying and trying to claw his eyes out, the one of Vegeta standing on a chair while snakes crawled all over the floor below him, the one of Capsule Corporation bedecked in toilet paper like a bride on her wedding day, and of Vegeta wrapped up in the glorious stuff known as duct tape), he had to survive one more thing…

"What is the name of Shenron is going on out here?!?" Bulma demanded angrily.

Then she noticed something—Vegeta was drenched, Gohan was holding a camera, Trunks was laughing his head off, the lawn was soaked, and the Slip 'N' Slide was floating back to the ground in tiny, yellow pieces that had been scattered into the sky by an enraged Saiyan Prince.

Said Prince was now readying a ki blast, ready to blow said children into the next dimension.

"Vegeta, I will handle it," Bulma said firmly, in one of those voices that not even Vegeta would argue with. "And trust me, it won't be pretty." She turned a Look on the three chibis, who quailed suitably beneath its weight. That kind of a Look usually promised Frying Pan Whapping and/or starvation.

It was moments like this that had Gohan convinced that Bulma could probably go head to head with Frieza himself, and scare the reptilian tyrant into submission within moments. He'd always suspected that his mother could have singlehandedly taken out Cell, though he had never voiced that opinion, for fear that Krillen would tease him, Vegeta would [try to] beat him, or that Piccolo would just smack him repeatedly upside the head.

"What could you possibly do?!?" Vegeta roared angrily. "Nothing's stopping them! They're devils! Little tyrants!" He paused; then, with an almost wonderous expression, he added, "They're almost acting…Saiyan! Only less evil…and without destroying planets…" The revelation was plain on his face; he had gone blank at the very idea.

Bulma took advantage of this momentary distraction to steer her wayward Saiyan partner back into his treasured Gravity Room, and close the door, effectively delivering the three children from excruciating pain, monstrous injury, and almost certain death.

At Vegeta's hands, anyway…

"All right, you three," Bulma wheeled on the chibis. "You're in big trouble!" She advanced a step; they fell back a step. Suddenly, she grinned. "Unless you give me a copy of that picture. I assume it's a good one?" She winked, and there were multiple sighs of relief. But this one wasn't resulting in Bulma's home being destroyed, or anything along those lines, so she could deal with it.

Behind her, Krillen was laughing his head off. "Man, that was awesome! I wanna see that picture!" Gohan grinned, until he realized that Krillen had Marron with him, and she was staring at his wet, swimming-trunks-clad self, almost drooling. Of course, that last state could have been attributed to her young age, but Gohan wasn't taking any chances. He grabbed his towel and covered up.

He was only mildly surprised when she started pouting at him.

"Well, I got what I needed," Krillen held up a handful of capsules, as if to prove his point. "I expect to see that picture, Gohan." With a wave and a goodbye, he left, taking his mildly-lovesick daughter with him—much to Gohan's relief.

"Honestly, Gohan, I don't know what's gotten into you," Bulma sighed as she led the three children back to the house. "You've been a little demon ever since you went chibi, and I have to say, it's almost frightening. You're the only person I've ever seen who could plan a better practical joke than my son." She ignored Trunks' protests, and continued, "Have you always had this talent?"

"I don't know. It's like…it's like something just comes over me, and I can't control it. When it happens, I—I just have to prank somebody. And Vegeta just makes himself the obvious choice. I can't fight it," he replied half-mournfully, then paused and shot Bulma a glance. "Why are you asking?"

"Oh, I'm just wondering if you'll retain this side of you when the second wish is made, and you go back to being eighteen," the blue-haired beauty replied thoughtfully. "Trust me, Vegeta still has his 'I am the Prince of all Saiyans and that gives me the right to be a complete jerk to everyone, so there' moments every once in a while, and sometimes, I just need to put him in his place, if you catch my drift."

Gohan nodded fervently. They had all been a victim, at some time or another, of Vegeta's trademark 'I am the Prince of All Saiyans and that gives me the right to be a complete jerk to everyone, so there' moments. And usually, he walked away from those times with a clear reminder of why he always pulled pranks on Vegeta.

"I could help, if you want!" Trunks chimed, knowing he probably wouldn't be allowed to do something like that to his father. But Gohan was cool—maybe there'd be some covert work for him to do or something. The penalty if he was ever caught would probably be death, but hey, what's life without a little risk? Boring. Flat-out boring.

Trailing along beside Gohan, Goten grinned. _I am sooooo winning this quiet game._

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**AN: **This wasn't intended to be a prank chapter. It just kind of…happened. Semi-prank, we'll call it. I love Vegeta to death, I really do. But he sets himself up for all the torment we authors put him through. *sigh* And poor Goten…heeheehee…

Hehe…I'm trying to figure out what will happen in the next couple chapters before we get the final prank, the Dragonball hunt, the second wish, and the epilogue. So…yeah.

Oh yeah, and the first chappie of the Christmas spin-off is almost done. Ideally, it'll be up soon, but I'm not going to make any promises. This is the time of year where EVERYTHING starts happening at once, so time might become a very valuable resource.

Fortunately, summer vacay is nearing, and with that, hopefully I'll have a little free time. I doubt I'll ever get back to my daily updating habit (*sighs* Once upon a time…), but I'd like to post a little more frequently than I do now. I feel bad when I don't update.

Next chapter: Not a clue, as of yet…


	29. Random Silliness

**AN: **Whew…I've just been on a writing kick lately, so I decided to apply it to this story as well. Not like the old days, when I could sit down and write for a few hours at a time, cranking out three or four chapters in one sitting. I miss those days sigh but meh, whatcha gonna do? And hey, I've made it to thirty chapters with this fic! Wee-hee! I doubt this story will make it all the way to forty.

This was a request someone made, and while I really don't think Gohan would prank Videl, I do believe that maybe he might take advantage of his time as a kid to maybe get back at some other people who made his life somewhat miserable in whatever menial ways they could. So here, by request, is a multitude of prankish goodiness (I hope). This is not the final prank chapter, as that will be the last chappie before they begin the Dragonball hunt, but I don't like to let people down when they make requests that I can do.

Plus, I had a couple of really random scenes, like the very opening scene, that I really wanted to use before I finish this fic, so here they are! Trust me, the opening scene is VERY random. I think it made more sense inside my head.

I don't own Dragonball Z. Akira Toriyama claims that honor. I just own this little bit of silliness and one of the few OCs I regularly use, Hannah, Satan family housekeeper. And silliness abounds in this particular chapter. Put it this way: I'm rewatching 'Kung Pow: Enter the Fist' as I type this. Heehee…

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**Chapter Thirty—Random Silliness**

_Or, the Prank, Part 5.5_

There was a certain pool in Otherworld, where those who had already passed over could sit and watch those in the natural world. And at the moment, a group of warriors—all of whom had been blessed to the Training Grounds of the Afterlife—sat, watching intently.

At the head of the group, right beside the rainbow-colored portal, was a certain fighter. Infamous in both worlds, he was known for his trademark orange gi, spiky black hair, cheerful grin, utter cluelessness, and deadly strength. At the moment, though, he was displaying the grin—and the total and utter cluelessness.

In the pool, Gohan and Videl were visible. He seemed to be chasing her around. Both looked quite happy, and seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Goku cleared his throat and gestured towards the images in the portal. "And here, we see the teenager and the chibified teenager in their natural habitat. Notice the sappy smiles. This is the sort of thing that will usually cause grandchild-crazed mothers to descend on them, planning weddings and demanding that they have lots of babies right away."

A hand went up in the back.

"Will you please hold questions until the end of the lecture, sir?" Goku said cheerily, and Pikkon lowered his hand to his side, nodding. "Now, let's look at the rare and elusive Bulma—an intelligent, pretty, and unbelievably dangerous creature…"

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By nature, Son Gohan was a kind, patient person, without a malevolent bone in his body. But something had happened to the normally benevolent boy. He had been corrupted, by renewed youth, and by another boy named Trunks. Goten usually ended up being dragged along for the ride.

Gohan was rarely the vengeful time. But sometimes…sometimes he was just pushed too far. Vegeta was a prime example of someone who just knew how to push Gohan's buttons. Royally. The only one who had made an even further study of 'pissing Gohan off' was Krillen. Krillen was the undisputed and thus unsurpassed Master of the School of Irritating and Angering Hormone-Driven Super Saiyan Teenagers. Satan Hercule had also quick a knack for getting under Gohan's skin.

And so Son Gohan, one day, in a random burst of...something, he wasn't quite sure what, decided to exact some well deserved vengeance upon those two, Krillen and Hercule. Krillen was to be repaid for years of teasing, mostly where Videl was concerned, and Hercule…well, just for being himself.

The latter, Gohan was a bit concerned about, as this was his girlfriend's father. But to his amazement—not to mention his amusement—Videl found the idea hilarious, and volunteered to help. That became their plan. Trunks and Goten were to be his cohorts on the Krillen end of the spectrum. It was going to be all Gohan, but Trunks had proven to be worth his salt in helping with the plan.

And while they plotted, Goten had simply sat there and watched a bug.

Two unsuspecting people. One glorious day.

This was going to be fun…

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When it came to getting Krillen, Gohan wanted to get him where it counted. But there was one person he had to clear it with first. Someone who was probably more capable of inflicting damage and certain death on him then Krillen.

And that person was his wife, Number Eighteen.

Gohan was prepared to beg her to let him pull this prank, but she was surprisingly open to the idea. She even agreed to help out by taking Marron with her on an errand that afternoon, so as not to risk anyone actually getting hurt in this endeavor.

Eighteen left about mid-morning, taking her daughter with her. She went to the Son house, and told the boys it was a go. She would wait there until they came back, hang around a little while longer, and then return home to make sure her undoubtedly-enraged husband hadn't killed any defenseless talking animals or perverts.

Well, any defenseless talking animals, at least.

The three chibis touched down on the sandy beach, and Trunks immediately dragged Goten into hiding. They were going to watch and listen, hopefully unnoticed, and if Krillen blew his top, they would jump in to help subdue and protect Gohan.

Taking a deep breath, the chibified teen pushed open the door, knowing he really didn't need to knock anymore. "Hey, Krillen!" Gohan said cheerily.

"Gohan!" the short man returned the greeting from his seat at the dining room table. "What brings you here?"

"I came to see my girlfriend," Gohan piped, closing the door behind him.

Krillen froze and raised an eyebrow. "Your…girlfriend?"

"Yeah," Gohan nodded and rolled his eyes, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "My girlfriend. Marron." He sighed dreamily. "Man, I never realized it, but she's the love of my life, ya know? I think it was meant to be."

He took a certain amount of delight in noticing that Krillen's posture had gone absolutely rigid, and the eyebrow that a moment before had been raised questioningly was now twitching violently.

Gohan knew it was cruel—a father's love for his daughter is incredibly powerful. And he knew Krillen's rational mind was probably telling him that Gohan didn't mean it, it was a joke—which it truthfully was. But the overprotective father persona was undoubtedly winning out, and Krillen was probably growing closer and closer, with each passing second, to blowing something up.

In all probability, that something would be Gohan.

"So…how long has this been going on?" Krillen growled through clenched teeth. His hands had unconsciously tightened themselves into white-knuckled fists.

"Oh, not too long. Since she got into that fight with Videl in the park…" he sighed again. This was easily a performance worthy of an Academy Award! "Actually, she's not technically my girlfriend, though. I mean, I haven't asked her yet…" He shot Krillen what he desperately hoped was a hopeful, mournful, wounded puppy-dog-esque look. "Do you think she'd say yes?"

Krillen cracked his knuckles. "Were you going to ask her today?"

"Yeah…but I don't see her. Is she here?" Gohan asked, inching towards the door.

"No," Krillen rose to his feet, pushing his chair out behind him. He took one menacing step towards Gohan, who took another step back. He was about two steps from the door now…but Krillen was lurching towards him with murder in his eyes. "Gohan…you do realize that now I have to kill you." One hand flew back, and the short man readied a bright blue ki blast.

"Krillen," Gohan managed to keep a straight face, "you do realize that I'm totally kidding." That was it, he couldn't hold it, and he bust out laughing. Outside, he could hear Goten and Trunks giggling.

The ki blast faded, and Krillen stared at him in confusion. "What?"

"Payback time!" Gohan thrust one fist into the air in a victory gesture. "For all the teasing and torment over Videl and everything else!" Krillen continued to stare blankly, as though he wasn't quite understanding this concept. "Krillen, it's a joke. A prank." Still blank. "We asked Eighteen! She took Marron with her today so she wouldn't hear anything!"

This seemed to stir Krillen back to himself, and he glared at his shorter friend. "Gohan," he said in a low voice, "I might still have to kill you. I haven't decided yet."

"Meh, if you decide, you know where to find me," Gohan waved his hand and turned to the door, then stopped, and called back over his shoulder. "Hey…if I asked her for real, do you think she'd say yes?"

A loud roar and a rocketing ki level was his answer.

"RUN!" The three chibis rocketed off the island towards safety.

One down, one to go.

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"Come on, come on!" Videl gestured, and Gohan hustled inside the door she was holding open in wait; she pushed said door closed behind him and led him through the house. "He's training in the dojo right now, so we should be able to get things set up without too much trouble."

"Excuse me!"

The two tricksters let out twin yelps and jumped a mile, whirling to find themselves staring at a very amused older woman—Hannah, the Satan family housekeeper. "And what might we be up to?"

"Hannah!" Videl half-whined, knowing she would be allowed to get away with what they were planning anyway. The housekeeper was the mother Videl had never known, and probably the one person who knew her best.

And she was actually starting to develop what was becoming commonly known as a ChiChi Complex—she was starting to think that maybe Gohan and Videl should be planning a wedding. She had been known to drop subtle hints: verbal cues, pictures of wedding dresses pasted all over Videl's mirror, large signs all over the house that read, _MARRY GOHAN ALREADY!!!!!_

Nothing too over the top.

One grayed eyebrow arched. "Are we making trouble?"

"Of course!" Videl said, putting on the single most convincing 'innocent' face Gohan had ever seen; it was good enough to give Goten's absolute best a run for its money. Yet Hannah proved immune.

Instead of commenting, she turned a measuring look on the seven-year-old standing innocently beside Videl. "So it really did happen. Gohan, I assume that's you in there."

"The one and only," he nodded.

"So what kind of trouble is on tap for today?" Hannah asked, folding her arms with a glare of mock-menace. "It had better not be anything I need to clean up after."

"The only cleaning up this'll probably need is picking Daddy up off the floor," Videl winked. Hannah mulled it over for approximately half a second, then nodded, and went on her way, leaving them only with a warning to not do anything that would hurt the poor, delusional man too much.

Now free to do what they would, Gohan and Videl tiptoed all the way up to Hercule's infamous Trophy Room, the site of their joke. They snuck inside and began; it took them all of twenty minutes to set things up in there, and then they left it for Hercule to find.

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Videl retreated to the Son house with the pranksters, leaving behind video cameras to record the reaction of the world's hero. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Hercule's reaction would be no less than hysterical, hilarious, and most likely, blackmail worthy.

Goten and Trunks went indoors in search of a snack, leaving Gohan and Videl outside to sit and discuss the events of the day in all their entertaining glory. Neither could wait to go back and retrieve the tapes of Hercule's reactions.

But that conversation eventually faded onto other topics.

"Don't you ever get tired of it?" Videl asked offhandedly. "I mean, you've basically gone through Hell. Doesn't it ever get old? I mean, everything from aliens on other worlds to being chibified…how do you put up with it all?"

Gohan chuckled. "Take things one day at a time, and don't sweat the small stuff." He paused. "I remember when I was a kid—er, the first time around, I mean. Piccolo gave me some advice once. He told me about the hell I would undoubtedly go through in my life."

_Piccolo looked down at his young student from his imposing height. "You will undoubtedly go through Hell in your life."_

"Then he told me the significance of it, and how it would help me be a better person."

_The green man went on, "It will be significant, and it will help you be a better person."_

Gohan smiled at the memory. "Piccolo always has the best advice."

"Hear, hear," Videl agreed.

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Hercule Satan strolled noisily through the halls of his mansion, making sure everyone within a thirty-mile radius knew he was there, and he was on the move. It was one thing he had in common with Vegeta, not that the proud Saiyan would let the afro-ed idiot live if he knew they shared any common trait.

But anyway, the proud World Champion was headed for his legendary Trophy Room. He spent at least an hour in there each day, staring at his tropies and portraits with wide, vacant eyes and a thin trail of drool running down the corner of his mouth as he thought about his various…um, accomplishments.

With a flourish, he pushed open the door—

—and a second later, the windows of the Satan family mansion were shattered as the World's hero, the World Martial Arts Champion, the man who claimed to have defeated Cell—Satan Hercule let out a high-pitched, extremely girly shriek of horror.

Outside, fire hydrants exploded, babies started wailing, and dogs keeled over and died.

All of the portraits and trophies in the room had been flipped upside down; the Championship Belts were thrown haphazardly around the room. And the crowning glory, the coup de grace (or whatever those damn French…er, freedom words are) was an enormous sign, written on a large piece of white posterboard in crimson letters that ran in small rivers to the bottom of the sign.

_I KNOW WHAT YOU DID AT THE CELL GAMES!_

Hercule let out another scream…and fainted dead away.

He didn't even notice the video cameras hanging all around the room.

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**AN: **Whew…got it done! Yay rah! You won't believe how much trouble I actually had when I tried to think of a prank for them to play on Krillen. It's the first time I've had any trouble coming up with a simple, yet goofy and effective practical joke for this story…that was the most plausible I came up with.

I know the opening was INCREDIBLY random. I just like the idea of Goku doing that lecture, for some reason. Maybe I'm crazy…yeah, probably.

I had to change some of my formatting—the dividers between sections and such, 'cause ff.net's gotten all screwed up again. I'm also having some issues with spacing and certain characters, and I know I'm not the only one. Would they stop it already? Grrr!

Oh well. Hope everyone enjoyed the new chapter. We've still got a few left. The final prank, the hunt for the Dragonballs, the wish, the epilogue…figure maybe one more chapter before we delve into those Final Four. I've been on a writing kick lately, but I don't know how much longer I'll be on it. Hopefully I'll get the last chapters out a little faster. Ciao!


	30. The Prank, Part VI

**AN: **Wow, another chappie! This will be the final prank chapter, and it's one I've been saving since I started this fic. I think it should be good. Then the Dragonball hunt—I think that might actually be two separate, slightly shorter chapters for the hunt. Then the wish, and the epilogue. So four chapters left after this one. But I'm very proud of this chapter, heehee. I don't own Dragonball Z.

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**Chapter Thirty-One—The Prank, Part VI**

It was the last day.

Tomorrow, it would be four months to the day that the wish had been made. Tomorrow, they would break out the good ol' Dragonball radar, split up into teams, and head off to the four corners of the Earth to retrieve the orange, star-spangled spheres (alliteration!), and Gohan would finally get back to his normal, tall self.

Which is why he was here now, around the circular table with the battery-powered candles set up everywhere. They had even gotten out the enormous robes, just for the occasion. The Order of the Prank was to have its final moment today—at least, that's what Trunks had reasoned. "Once you're grown up again," Trunks had reasoned, "you'll go back to being all boring and stuff."

Gohan still hadn't decided if he was insulted by that statement or not.

But either way, here they were, plotting. And this one was the best, an absolute doozy of a trick. All for Vegeta, of course. And if this worked, chances were that the results would be better than what the hidden cameras had picked up as a result of their trick on Hercule—_that_ had been priceless.

"So," Gohan intoned, "are we ready for this? Our last fling?"

"Let's do it!" Goten chirped.

Trunks merely smirked, a mirror image of what Vegeta must have looked like in his youth, and held up a small brown bottle. This was so evil…so very evil…for the final time in Gohan's renewed childhood, Vegeta would feel his wrath.

Trunks led Gohan and Goten through the many hallways of Capsule Corporation. They were jabbering cheerfully, talking about this and that and some of that, too, and what would Gohan do when he was an adult again, and would he ask Videl out and kiss her, and would Trunks like to be buried or cremated because Gohan was going to brutally kill him.

They actually passed Vegeta in the hall. He looked at them suspiciously—whenever the three of them were together, he tended to be a tad paranoid, as they had managed to make a fool of him repeatedly. But there was absolutely nothing suspicious about the behavior of the children. They were simply walking along, talking about what it would be like when Gohan was back to normal. Apparently, the proud Saiyan decided that if they were acting like that, it was unlikely that they would be doing anything. Either that, or he was just figuring he'd keep a very close eye on them.

Whatever the case might be, he passed by them with a snort of acknowledgment and a brief, passing glance, and he continued on his way towards…well, towards wherever it was that he was going.

The three demon-children exchanged triumphant grins. Victory!

And on their way they went. They disappeared through a door into the room; a moment later, they re-emerged. On their way back down the hall, Trunks dropped a now-empty brown bottle in a trash can.

All was well.

Vegeta glanced around suspiciously. He couldn't sense any evil chibis nearby, and there appeared to be nothing out of the ordinary. Taking a deep breath, he stepped outside, muscles tensed to dodge any surprise attacks that might have been rigged.

Nothing.

He continued on, towards the Gravity Room, every single sense on fullest alert. But nothing manifested itself. The children's energy signals remained deep within the building, and there didn't seem to be any traps lying in his immediate path. But there was still to actually go into the Gravity Room…

He stopped outside the door. They'd gotten him a couple times in this very room, so he was leaving nothing to chance. Readying a small ki blast in his hand, he opened the door and leapt to the side. When nothing leapt out at him, he peered into the room.

Nothing.

Slowly, he walked in and took a good look around. There was nothing there.

And now he felt royally stupid for being so paranoid. So he simply gathered the scraps of his dignity—for his dignity had been reduced to scraps since Gohan's chibification—and closed the door to resume his training. And he was undisturbed.

the readers are all confused

After a while, he realized he was hungry. But Bulma had been getting quite irritated with him coming into the kitchen all sweaty and gross, and had issued an ultimatum: shower before coming to the kitchen, or starve. Not really much of a choice. Muttering something to himself about 'that damn woman,' the Saiyan Prince headed towards the nearest shower.

_Meanwhile…_

"I can't wait to see the look on Vegeta's face!" Gohan cackled softly, not wanting anyone to hear. He wasn't quite sure why; they would be the primary suspects once the axe fell anyway, and everyone would know. But he felt like be conspiratorial.

"I know!" Trunks replied in an equally hushed voice. Goten just giggled.

"Hey!" Bulma's voice from the door made them jump and whirl around in a belated—and vain—attempt to look innocent. The blue-haired genius and mother wasn't fooled for an instant, and she simply said, "What are you three planning this time?"

"Nothing!" Goten said, turning on the Bambi eyes.

Once again, Bulma wasn't convinced. She sighed and shook her head; she didn't really have time for this. She'd just been going from the shower to her room when she'd heard the soft murmur of a whispered conversation. Immediately suspicious, she felt the need to stop and at least perform a cursory check to protect her mate's already-tattered honor. She put one hand to her head to make sure the towel was still wrapped around her head, and shot her son a glare. "Behave, you hear me?"

The three nodded, the appropriate terror instilled in them. Well, maybe 'terror' wasn't quite the right word. 'Unholy Fear of God' was more like it. They waited until Bulma left, her bathrobe billowing behind her like some king's cloak, before they let out pent-up breaths of relief.

They hung out for a while, then decided to go check on the results of their prank. They darted back down towards the scene of the crime, as it were. To their surprise, Vegeta was coming out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. This, of course, was an improvement over the old days, when he saw no need for such cover-ups; it had taken a great battle before he had agreed to adorn himself with the towel when walking to and from the bath.

And to their even bigger surprise, Vegeta was holding an empty plastic bottle in his hand, and muttering something about the woman picking something up at the store. And the bottle was…

Gohan's heart dropped into his stomach. If Vegeta hadn't used it, then…

A glass-shattering shriek nearly broke the Saiyan eardrums; even Vegeta cringed and put his hands to his ears, dropping the bottle. The Saiyan Prince looked around in bewilderment. "What the hell—"

In response, Bulma came hurtling towards them, a nuclear missile, fully loaded and ready to explode, turning her targets into tiny little shreds of half-Saiyan, floating to the ground amidst a shower of blood. **"GOHAN!**** GOTEN! TRUNKS**!" she bellowed. Even Vegeta paled, and inched back into the bathroom to hide. That was the scariest thing he had ever seen in his life.

Just before he closed the door, he saw why she was so enraged.

And for the first time in his life, Vegeta felt a twinge of pity for his son. Of course, that was immediately replaced by the thought that what had happened had been intended for him. Which meant he would have to beat the boy.

Oh, rats.

Gohan, Goten, and Trunks were unable to sit for several hours afterwards, as the most brilliant of their pranks had backfired in a way none of them had ever imagined it would. They were in severe pain for quite some time, and all three were sworn never to do anything like that ever again. By sworn, I mean they had to sign a contract in their own blood before Bulma was satisfied.

Still, in a strange, sadistic way, Gohan thought it was kind of worth it.

After all, in addition to all the pain, he had managed to walk away from it with a very special picture that would forever immortalize the results of that infamous practical joke. The day Bulma had used the bottle of rigged hair conditioner, and ended up with her hair dyed a bright, brilliant, fire-engine red.

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**AN: **Thus end the pranks. I've been waiting and waiting to write this one, but I wanted to end on that. I figure that once Bulma fell victim to something like that, there would be no more pranks. Simple as that. I hope you enjoyed it. Next chapter, the Dragonball hunt begins! Like I said before, that'll take a full two chapters, and then we'll be onto the wish.

Oh, and I'm still working on A Very Chibi Christmas. I'm having a few issues with the first chapter, but ideally I'll have the first part of it up soon. The second chapter should be easier,  hopefully. Laters, all!


	31. The Dragonball Hunt, Part I

**AN: **S-s-six hundred reviews? Candy-chan faints Candy-chan jumps back up, squeals, and hugs every single person who's reviewed Ohmigod, I love you all, you hear me! You guys are awesome, the bomb, the cream of my corn, the apple of my pie!

So now we're into the home stretch: the hunt for the Dragonballs! Also, there will be one more little thing for everyone next chapter. We're going to get four of the Dragonballs in this chapter, three next chapter, with another little Easter egg. Then the wish, and a short epilogue, to round this fic out at thirty-five chapters. These next couple chappies should be nice and long for your reading pleasure.

You have no idea how difficult this really was—to come up with DB locations that were moderately plausible, but could still be used to achieve some sort of humor aspect. It wasn't easy…ugh…but I think I did an okay job. You should have seen some of the ideas we've come up with in the past—I actually once wrote a chapter (never posted) in which Eighteen, ChiChi, and Videl found one of the Dragonballs in Master Roshi's porno room…and the sad part is that I might use it for this story, just because it was so fun to write and everything. I might use it next chapter…maybe…

Enjoy! I don't own DBZ!

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**Chapter Thirty-Two—The Dragonball Hunt, Part I**

The day had finally arrived. It was four months to the day that Goten had made that fateful wish, and finally the hunt for the Dragonballs could begin. And they were ready for it.

Preparations had started a week ago—basically, the 'preparations' consisted of Bulma digging out her old radar, making sure it still worked, and tweaking it a little bit. And now, they would begin. The plans had been laid: Bulma would remain at Capsule Corporation, maintaining it as a sort of headquarters, a home base. From there, she would direct the hunt. The others would each be given a location and a communication device, and sent out into the world to find the elusive orange spheres.

It was so simple. By dividing the task, they would gather the Dragonballs more quickly, and could therefore wish Gohan back to normal sooner. The hardest part had been getting Vegeta to go along with the plan, but a few well-placed threats from Bulma had changed his mind, and he was ready to go with the rest.

Most had teamed up for the sake of…well, for the sake of teaming up. It was more fun with someone to converse with (as long as you weren't Vegeta or Piccolo), and if there was trouble somewhere along the way, there was the classic safety in numbers.

Gohan, Goten, and Trunks had been teamed together, as had Yamcha and Krillen. Videl and Number Eighteen had also grouped together to search. Vegeta and Piccolo had both announced that they would go solo, and no one had argued.

That made five groups, leaving two Dragonballs without searchers. In the end, though, Bulma had simply reasoned that a couple people or groups would simply have to go out again. Not a big deal.

And so the hunt began. At Bulma's insistence, the children were sent out first. If they caused trouble, that would leave plenty of time to deal with it. And besides, they needed to make sure that Gohan, Goten, and Trunks weren't out past their bedtimes.

"You're there!" Bulma's voice came over the radio, alerting the three boys that they were good to land and hunt down the Dragonball. Obediently, the three touched down and looked around.

They were in a small village. Judging by the houses and such, it was probably a poorer village. There weren't many people out and about, so Gohan and crew wandered the streets without interruption. Eventually, they decided to ask someone if they'd seen the elusive Dragonball. There was a building nearby—it appeared to be the largest building in the entire village—and the front doors were open, so they went in there.

And to their amazement, there was the Dragonball.

It was sitting on a decorative pedestal, surrounded by glowing candles and burning incense. Goten sneezed at the smell of incense, then wailed, "It stinks in here!"

"Shut up," Trunks retorted automatically. "Let's get the Dragonball and get out of here."

"But you can't take that!" a man protested, seemingly appearing out of nowhere; he placed himself in their path, standing between them and their prize. "That is a gift from our god and protector, an idol sent to us from him as praise for our centuries of devoted worship. It protects our village."

"What?" Gohan asked incredulously.

"Our village has worshipped our God for generations! Centuries!" the man explained, not moving from their path. "For years, we have waited for a sign from Him to show his favor. And this morning, the sign we have been waiting for appeared! A simple rock transformed before our very eyes into this sacred relic. Surely, it is a sign from God that we are blessed! It is a gift from our protector, and to take it from the village would surely bring disaster upon us!"

The three chibis stared at the man for a long moment following his impassioned speech.

Then Trunks raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly. "Riiiiiight…so anyway, we'll just be taking that and get on our way, then…" He was surprised when the man stepped in front of him again.

"Surely you are a demon, sent to ravage our village! Begone!" he waved his arms at them, like he was shooing chickens away. Other villagers, overhearing their conversation, were coming in, having armed themselves with such weapons as pitchforks and clubs. It was quite rudimentary, really.

Well, _this_ was something they hadn't quite counted on. While fighting for the Dragonballs was nothing new to them, they hadn't really ever had to fight ordinary people. All three of them knew the stories of the Red Ribbon Army—the closest thing to 'ordinary people' that had ever tried to assemble the seven orbs. But the Army had been armed with tanks, guns, a really short leader with a lot of money, and a whole bunch of generals and commanders who were named after colors. Nothing ordinary there.

"Umm, look. We're not demons," Gohan said as calmly as he could. "We're just some kids. And that's not a gift from your God or whatever. It's called a Dragonball, and we need it to make our wish."

"Yeah!" Goten chirped.

"Never!" the man cried, and the villagers rallied behind him.

"Uh-huh…" Trunks inched closer to Gohan and leaned over. "What do we do now, smart guy?"

Gohan pondered his options for a moment. Finally, he decided on the simplest course of action. "Grab it and run!" And he did. He jumped over the man's head and darted up to the pedestal, kicking in Saiyan speed to do it. And before most of the villagers could blink, he had the Dragonball clutched in his hot little hands.

"Get them!" the man who had told them the story shouted, and the villagers charged.

"Goten! Trunks! Don't hurt anyone if you can absolutely avoid it!" Gohan hollered, jumping out of reach of a pitchfork someone had swung at his head. "They're not bad guys, they're just trying to protect something they believe in!"

A large sweatdrop ran down the back of Gohan's head as he saw Trunks holding a guy three feet in the air by the front of his shirt. "What'd you say, Gohan?"

"Put him down."

"Awww, you don't let me have any fun."

"You're right, I don't. Now let's get out of here!"

Somehow—Gohan wasn't quite sure how—they managed to get over everyone's heads and out the front doors. Granted, if they'd really wanted to, they could have just gone through the roof, but that would make things too easy. Plus, then the poor villagers would have to rebuild.

Rejoicing, the three chibis shot into the sky.

"Success!" Gohan chirped into the radio device that linked them to Bulma.

"Awesome!" she replied cheerily. "Head on back, guys. Good job."

Gohan clipped the radio back onto the belt of his gi and studied the Dragonball in his other hand. Four stars. He just couldn't believe the irony of that. But either way, they'd secured it for their wish.

"That was some trouble, getting that away from those people," Trunks commented. "They were really willing to fight for this thing."

"Of course they'd fight for it. They actually thought this thing protected them," Gohan sighed. "That's ridiculous, of course."

"I know!" Trunks rolled his eyes, while Goten just giggled. "What will people think of next?"

Unbeknowst to the children, as they sped off across the sky, the village was in mourning for their lost treasure. Suddenly, the ground began shaking. And in a few minutes, most of the town had been levelled. By an earthquake. Minutes laters, clouds rolled in, and they had a monsoon. And a tornado whipped across the plain.

While surprisingly few lives were lost in the disastrous onslaught, most of their cows perished, and they had no milk for their cookies. Poor dears.

_"No killing, no blowing things up, no going Super Saiyan, and no traumatizing small children."_

Bulma's words rang in Vegeta's head, and he sighed. Damn woman, not letting him have any fun.

But he had reasoned long ago that it would just be easier to obey and go along with it. He simply stored it away in his 'Remember This for When I Need Some Leverage on the Damn Woman' file. He could probably work this one several times.

Finally, he landed. This was approximately the place where she had instructed him to go, citing that the Dragonball was lurking somewhere around here. Somewhat begrudgingly, he pulled the radio from his belt and spoke into it, "Am I close?"

"Pretty close. It's a little to the east still," Bulma's voice crackled back, a little too cheerfully for Vegeta's taste. But they signed off, he reclipped the handheld radio on his belt, and started going east. Eventually, he happened upon a small town. It reminded him of a slightly more modern version of the one in that American movie the woman had made him watch, _The Music Man._ A little place, self-sufficient, with neat rows of shops and houses lining the streets.

It was so perfect, he wanted to gag. But he gathered his resolve and ventured in.

He noticed, relatively quickly, that there was something going on in this town. Some sort of special occasion. There were brightly-colored balloons and streamers decorating buildings and streetlamps, and there were people milling around everywhere. He seemed to be on the main street in this little town, for strung between two buildings, above the street, was a large banner that read _Welcome to Annual Troll Days! _It was decorated in bright colors, almost eye-blinding.

Vegeta tilted his head to one side, regarding the banner. A troll? What the hell was a troll?

As if some mischievous God (probably Dende, who had just secured an appointment in the afterlife for himself) had heard his very thoughts, a woman appeared at his elbow. She was mild-aged, plump, brown haired, wearing clothes that burned right through his eyelids—how in the name of the seven mad gods did anyone managed to create those colors?!? And she was waaaaaaaaaaaaay too perky for Vegeta's tastes. Hell, even Kakarott probably wouldn't have been able to handle this much happiness.

"Thank goodness you're finally here!" the woman bubbled, grabbing his arm and pulling him along. He was too surprised to resist, and even if he'd remembered that he didn't care, he did remember that he was forbidden to harm anyone. So he grudgingly went along, inwardly cringing as the woman continued babbling; she seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he didn't have a single clue what she was talking about.

"We didn't think you were going to show up, but you're here now. You're late, you know. Very unprofessional," she was weaving through the crowd as she spoke, dragging the Saiyan Prince behind her. She broke off from her jabbering every so often to greet someone, and then picked right back up again without missing a beat. "Your hair isn't the right color, but we don't have time to worry about that. And why couldn't you have had a little more color in your wardrobe, that dark blue just isn't what you should be wearing. Honestly, you should have planned a little better…"

Vegeta felt his IQ dropping. One more minute of this, and he would probably go crazy.

But finally, blessedly, she stopped and released him. He fought down the urge to run away as fast as he could, and instead followed her stare. "Over there, that's the float you'll be riding on."

He hadn't thought he could be any more horrified by where he was. But he had just been proven to be oh-so-wrong. The monstrosity in front of him was an enormous pink and blue contraption covered with flowers and happy smiling faces. It was disgusting, horrible, terrible, and many other –ibles. Vegeta had never before seen such a horrifying sight.

And all around it were people in large rubber mascot-outfits. They were little naked beasts (though they lacked certain proper portions of…ah, anatomy). Some had sparkly jewels in various shapes where their belly buttons were supposed to be, and all had hair that was surprisingly similar to Vegeta's in style: tall and pointed, but as opposed to Vegeta, those beings had hair in a rainbow of colors. The eyes of these beings were shiny and glassy, and they were all smiling. It was…_creepy_!

"What the hell…?" Vegeta muttered.

How she could have heard him when she was still babbling a mile a minute, he didn't know. But without a break in what she had been saying, she replied, "They're Trolls, of course, now you'll be standing up there…" And she was back on whatever inane topic she'd been on before.

Vegeta suddenly decided that he had someplace else he needed to be. Right away. Without wasting another minute. And so without a sound, he decided to bend the rules and use his Saiyan speed. He zipped away, managing not to mow anybody down physically, though the wind cast by his passing knocking several children and one dog to the ground.

The idiot-woman continued talking. She didn't notice that her captive had escaped, and was replaced by another man who had bright green hair, standing straight up. She turned around, and immediately began fawning over how much better he looked now.

Meanwhile, Vegeta had escaped to the plain on the other side of town. He stared back, waivered for a moment, and then decided that the satisfaction he would get from destroying the town would in no way be enough to justify the pain and suffering he would endure at Bulma's hands if he caused any harm.

"Vegeta?" Bulma said into the radio. "You're right next to it. Look around you."

With that, it was relatively easy to find the small orange sphere. It was wedged in between two rocks. It was something that one would not have noticed unless one was looking for it. He pulled out his radio and called back, "I've got it. And let me tell you how much you owe me for this one, woman…"

Ah, a forest. The beauty of nature.

Piccolo couldn't have cared less. He wanted to find the damn Dragonball and get back to Capsule Corporation so they could get this over with. The sooner Gohan was back to normal, the better. Then he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.

And who knows? Maybe if Gohan was back to his eighteen year old, non-troublemaking-self, that damn Voice of DOOM would go away and never bother them again. Hey, he could dream, couldn't he?

This was where Bulma had said the Dragonball would be. So he just needed to look around. Get the ball, and head back to West City and get this whole fiasco over with. Then he could get back to his waterfall and his meditation. He was losing valuable time!

He moved through the trees, observing. Many small, sickeningly cute forest animals scampered out to look at him curiously. It was liked something out of a Kami-damned Disney movie! He resisted the urge to blast them all, knowing that Gohan would scold him, and continued looking. He did, however, glare at a nearby deer. Apparently, Bambi wasn't too fond of mean looks, and darted away through the trees.

Suddenly, he heard voices. Loud, excited voices, jabbering like hyperactive children.

"Look, over there!"

"It's Bigfoot!"

"Bigfoot's not green!"

"Could it be the missing link?"

"Yes, the missing link!"

"We must catch it!"

"Pictures!"

"After it!"

There was the sound of an engine roaring, and the chase began. And Piccolo found himself having to avoid a group of tourists in a Jeep, all holding cameras, who had somehow decided that he was some sort of scientific mystery or oddity.

How annoying.

Piccolo grabbed his radio and barked into it, "Bulma, where the hell is it? I'm being chased!"

"It's just ahead," Bulma replied, letting the language roll off her back. "Getting warmer…getting warmer…you're there! It should be right around you!"

After a few seconds of searching, Piccolo spotted that glimmer of orange, sitting in the fork of a high treebranch. Getting it was a relative breeze. "Okay, let's head back—" Piccolo started to mutter to himself, but he was interrupted as the tourist Jeep came through the foliage, cameras flashing.

"Fascinating!"

"Extraordinary!"

"Might be a new species!"

"Maybe they'll name it after me!"

"I don't think so, jerk!"

"Back off!"

And then a fight broke out. As he listened, the Namekian warrior felt a grudging shred of respect for these unknown people. Some of them had very incredible vocabulary in some areas. Judging by the positions one of the voices recommended to a few of the others, someone in there was quite well-versed in the Kama Sutra.

"Oh, for the love of Kami…" Piccolo muttered. Having had enough, he gave into his first impulse, and employed the good ol' eye lasers. He fried the Jeep—and gave the tourists inside a good shock as well. In fact, they were thrown into the air by the force of it, landing all over the place. A few landed in trees. And it pleased him to no end to see smoke billowing from all the cameras. "Serves you right."

And with that, he took off. He left a shocked group of tourists, a melted vehicle, and a few former homes for birds and squirrels toppled to the ground.

"Okay, are we close?" Krillen asked into the device.

"You're right on top of it!" Bulma's voice crackled back. "But I want to warn you, I think someone found this one. It moved from where it was when I sent you out. Not by much, though. I'm guessing it landed somewhere outdoors, and someone found it and took in inside. If there's a building near you when you land, it's probably there."

"Got it," Krillen agreed, and he and Yamcha swooped down to land on a sidewalk, amidst dozens of startled and curious onlookers. They ignored the questions, stares, and a few shrieks about aliens (ridiculous—Goku, Vegeta, and Piccolo were the aliens!), and set about their search. After one further communique with Bulma, they found the place—sure enough, it was a building.

A very large building, actually, and a fairly impressive one at that. It was painted white, with pillars in the front. They stared for a few minutes before deciding that this was the most likely place to check. So they simply jumped over the fence and headed in, ignoring the protests and odd looks of numerous people on the way. They walked in casually through the front door and began looking around.

The place was as large on the inside as it was on the outside. After looking for a while, they decided that maybe they need more help, and radio-ed Bulma again. She narrowed the field on the radar, and was then able to direct them until they were right beside the Dragonball's location.

Krillen and Yamcha looked around. It appeared they were in some sort of office. A strange office, though. It was round, for whatever reason. But other than that, it seemed to be a very nice office, with windows lining the wall behind the desk letting in plenty of sunshine.

"So it's in here somewhere," Yamcha walked in and stood in the middle of the room. "Let's get searching. I'll take the desk." And so they began hunting. Krillen looked around various other things in the room, while Yamcha rooted cheerfully through the desk drawers. Finally, after about five minutes, there was a cry of victory.

"Got it!" Yamcha stood up, holding a tiny orange ball in his hand for the viewing pleasure of his searching companion. "Two stars, and all mine. It was in the bottom drawer."

"Great. Let's go," Krillen cheered. This was without a doubt the easiest Dragonball search they'd ever had. Both were enjoying their victory as they headed back towards the door. But there was someone there, watching them. A man in a suit, staring at them through wide eyes.

"Who are you?" he asked in a heavily accented voice. "And what're you doin' here?"

Before either of them could answer or think of an excuse, the man in the suit began freaking out. Completely spazzing. He started running back and forth, waving his arms in the air, screaming something about 'terrorists' and 'weapons' and 'bombs' and 'why are they taking the pretty ball I found outside, 'cause it's mine!'

For a while, it was kind of amusing. But after about ten minutes of screaming, running around, and flailing, with no end in sight, the novelty wore off, and it began to get quite old.

"Should we stop this?" Krillen whispered. When Yamcha nodded, Krillen did the only thing he could think of: he chucked the spastic man on the chin. However, given Krillen's training, 'chucking' the guy's chin was enough to send him flying three feet _and_ knock him completely unconscious.

"Well, that was easy," Yamcha observed, and they stepped over the now-comatose man and left the building. Once back on the sidewalk, they made a quick call to Bulma to let her know of their success, then took off into the air, heading back for Capsule Corporation.

"That wasn't too hard," Krillen commented. "I wonder who that guy was, anyway…"

Meanwhile, back in the oddly-shaped office, a man in a uniform—crisp white pants and a midnight blue dress jacket bearing a variety of medals and decorations, with a white hat tucked under one arm—was leaning over the prone figure of the unconscious man, still lying in the doorway. The uniformed man asked, in concern, "Are you all right, Mr. President?"

.

.

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**AN: **Candyland sits patiently and waits for flames I know I probably pissed SOMEBODY off with that last, but I just could **not** help myself. If you want to chastise me, feel free—it's your freedom of speech, just as this is mine. Two years posting on this site, and this is the first time I've ever editorialized. Please forgive. I don't mean to get all political. Actually, if you think I'm bad, there's actually a fic on this site called, "George W. Bush vs. the Z Warriors." You think I'm editorializing? Read that fic. 'Nuff said.

Anyway, I hope I didn't offend anyone badly enough that they won't come back for the next chapter. It promises to be a fun one, because I'll be using a great idea that one of my delightful reviewers gave me. The last three Dragonballs are found, and Gohan has one last challenge as a chibi. It will undoubtedly be a very long chapter, so it'll probably take me a lot longer to get it written. Please be patient. Ja ne!

**PS. **I am still working slowly (but surely) on _A Very Chibi Christmas._ And ideally, I'll get the first chapter of that up before I finish this story. I think it'll only be a three-parter, if all goes according to plan. So keep your eyes peeled, because it promises to be very interesting. Very interesting indeed grin


	32. The Dragonball Hunt, Part II, and Then S...

AN: :does happy dance: Yay rah for my fantabulous reviewers! Neato mosquito, guys! I'm proud of you, and I'm really happy that everyone's enjoying the Dragonball hunt. And I was surprised that not even one person flamed me for the end of the last chapter. Surprised, but pleased, heehee. After this, we have a mere two chapters left-both of which are already mostly written. Yes, I sometimes skip ahead to the end of a fic-I started the last two chapters, oh, somewhere around Chapter Eight, I think. Leave me in my shame.

Anyhoo, here we go! The last three Dragonballs are found, and Gohan's getting one last challenge as a chibi. The last part of this chapter-the tests-were the brainchild of the lovely and talented **Goten's Girl12!!** Praise her, I say! I hope this measures up to your idea. No ownie!!!!

o

o

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**Chapter Thirty-Three—The Dragonball Hunt, Part II**

_Or, Who's the Best of the Boys?_

Four beautiful, orange, star-spangled spheres sat atop a blue pillow. Said pillow was then put in a place of honor-okay, so it was Bulma's desk, next to her computer, but hey, anyone who walked by could see them! Wasn't that enough?

They had gathered four of the Dragonballs, which left three more to go. Once those three were gathered, Son Gohan could be wished back to his eighteen-year-old self, and all would go back to normal…well, as normal as things ever got around those guys.

Videl and Number Eighteen had been sent out a little later than everyone else, so they hadn't yet captured their prize. That left two. Krillen and Yamcha had volunteered to go out again (provided they didn't meet up with the Spaz Man again-though he had a nice, big White House). And Bulma, being the fair-minded sort, had made an executive decision: Vegeta would go get the last one.

Naturally, the proud Saiyan had raised holy hell over this, but Bulma had taken him aside; moments later, he was rearing and ready to go. Nobody was quite sure if they wanted to know what Bulma had said to him to make him so eager to go find the thing.

And Gohan, Goten, and Trunks were left to their own devices, with only a warning not to make any sort of trouble, cause any sort of destruction, or traumatize any small children or animals.

In short, they weren't allowed to have any fun.

And so the search continued…

o

o

"So it's nearby?" Videl asked, looking down at the landscape.

"That's what Bulma said," Number Eighteen replied shortly.

As if on cue, the radio at Eighteen's belt crackled loudly. "Hey, you're there! Head on down and look around. It should be just below you!"

Obediently, the two women dropped some altitude and swooped down to the ground for a graceful landings. Once there, they glanced around. It was a plain, nothing too exciting, with a few low trees poking up over the grass here and there. So this was the location of the fifth Dragonball.

"Well, let's find it," Eighteen ordered, and Videl nodded.

After a few minutes, Videl reached behind a rather large rock that was shaped sort of like Goku's head, and shouted triumphantly, "Found it!" Her hand withdrew, clutching the elusive Dragonball. It bore its seven stars proudly.

"Great. Let's get out of here," Eighteen smirked.

"I don't think so!"

The voice trumpeted out of nowhere, and the two women whirled to find themselves staring at a veritable army of people. The man at the head of this large group was the one who had spoken. He was tall, handsome, and wearing a black tuxedo. His army…well, they looked a little odd, to say the least.

"We'll be taking the Dragonball, thank you very much!" he announced loudly. "We, the members of the Black Tie Army, shall conquer the world through song and dance, and we need the Dragonballs to do it! So hand it over, little girl!"

Videl glowered.

"No? Very well, then! We shall take you down with our super powers!" he cackled, then puased. "Why am I ending every sentence with an exclamation point?" He thought about it for a second, then shrugged. "Oh well. Hit it!"

It was then that they realized exactly why the army looked so damn strange. They were all wearing sequined tuxedos, sparkly top hats, and carrying gold-topped canes. The instant the order was given, they fell into a formation and started a routine.

Videl's jaw dropped. Eighteen's widened.

The Black Tie Army began to sing.

_Come and meet _[tap tap] _those dancing feet!_

_On the avenue I'm taking you to_

_Forty-second street!_

Eighteen realized that she suddenly had the urge to vomit—a remarkable feat for an android.

_Hear the beat _[tap tap] _of dancing feet_

_It's the song I love the melody of_

_Forty-second street!_

What the hell was this? Videl tilted her head to one side. No, it didn't make any sense from that angle either. These people were all certifiable, she was quite sure.

_Little nifties from the fifties, innocent and sweet_

_Sexy ladies from the eighties, who are indiscreeeeeeete!_

With that, they broke into a full blown tap routine.

_They're side by side, they're glorified_

_Where they underworld can meet the elite_

[tappity tappity tappity tappity tappity tappity tap]

_Where the underworld can meet the elite_

_Forty-second STREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!!!!_

Someone was trying to sing soprano who was obviously NOT a soprano, and the incredibly high note showed it for all its tone-deaf glory. At that point, Eighteen had just had enough. With a slight growl, the android plowed into the army.

A few minutes later, dozens and dozens of sequined figures were sprawled over the landscape. A few were unconscious, most were groaning in pain, and a few begged for death.

Eighteen flew over to Videl. "I hate that song," she said, flipping her hair back with one hand. "Come on, let's go back to Capsule Corp." Videl didn't need to be told twice.

o

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"Guess we're gonna get wet," Yamcha commented, looking down at the blue expanse of ocean beneath them. Bulma's directions had brought them here, and she now swore that they were right over it. It was a good thing that it was so warm out—they were going for a swim.

Taking in deep breaths of air, they took the plunge and swam for it. They headed for the bottom, and looked around. It took surprisingly little time to find it—the elusive Dragonball was tangled in a seaweed bed, almost entirely hidden from sight. But Krillen found it, and freed it from its watery, planty prison. Clutching the one-star ball in his hands, he smiled (quite a feat, given he was underwater). They were almost there!

Krillen's attention was then caught by Yamcha, who was waving frantically and pointing towards a nearby coral reef. Understanding the gesture quite clearly, Krillen swam over towards his friend and peered at whatever had him so worked up. Some part of him was suddenly quite thankful that their training had afforded them the ability to hold their breath for a long period of time.

It was very obvious what had gotten Yamcha that excited.

There were a bunch of fish and other water animals dancing around on the coral reef. Nearby, there was what looked like a small redheaded girl with a green fish tail watching a crab (with some sort of accent) belting out a very catchy tune.

"Under da sea!" the crab sang, and the other fishies echoed it.

The two Dragonball hunters looked at each other, shrugged, and headed for the surface. When they broke through to the air above and caught their breath, Krillen turned to Yamcha and asked in bewilderment, "What was that?"

Yamcha shrugged. "I don't know…but that was a cool song!" He started singing. "Under da sea…under da sea…" That was as far as he got before Krillen punched him.

o

o

It was sunny, bright, and beautiful.

Vegeta growled at the blue sky. It was too damn cheerful for the proud Saiyan. As if it wasn't bad enough that he'd been sent on this asinine errand by the damn woman, it had to be so blasted _nice_ outside. A complete contrast with his mood. So naturally, he hated it.

He looked down, and saw something rather odd.

Beneath him was a bright arch of colors, reaching across the sky. He frowned, and finally, it clicked what it was. He was flying over a rainbow. Wait…wasn't there some ridiculous song by that title?

The woman owed him for this, big time.

Finally, Bulma's voice came over the radio. "Head on down, Vegeta. You're there."

Grumbling, he obeyed. But when he landed, he became acutely aware that there was something decidedly odd about this place. For starters, all the trees were very strange-looking, as were the houses. They were all different shapes and colors and styles, unlike anything he had ever seen before on Earth. And furthermore, he seemed to be standing on some sort of strange road—except it was the wrong color.

His thoughts about the path were distracted, though, as someone approached him. Actually, several someones. Several very _small_ someones. They were even shorter than him, though they looked to be fully grown adults, somehow.

Vegeta waited for them to say something.

One of them finally did—a fat man in a green jacket, holding a little black hat. "Where do you come from, stranger?" The man's voice sounded like he had been sucking helium; it was enough to make Vegeta's teeth grind.

"Somewhere else," he growled, not quite sure why he was answering. Trying to ignore the dozens of little eyes watching his every move, he began looking around. The Dragonball wasn't too hard to find, actually. There was a bird nesting on a nearby roof, and the orange sphere had ended up in the poor animal's nest. Vegeta plucked it out, ignoring the bird's screeches and pecking.

He regarded it smugly. The last Dragonball.

Now if he could only figure out why the hell the road beneath his feet was made of bricks, he would be all set. Even better, could someone tell him why it was yellow?

Three people scooted over and began singing. "We represent the Lollipop Guild…"

Okay, enough was enough. He had the Dragonball, and these little people were beginning to freak him out. Only one way to handle something like that. Vegeta shot off into the air, ignoring the gasps of the crowd; he spun, held out one hand, charged up, and let the ki blast fly.

There were squeals and screams, and dozens of yellow bricks came flying past his head. When the smoke cleared, he saw that he had made a nice dent in that oddly-colored road.

Shaking his head at the strange place, Vegeta soared back over the rainbow, heading for home.

When he returned, though, he quickly discovered that he was in serious trouble.

"VEGETA!" Bulma roared when he landed. She did, however, reach out and grab the last oh-so-precious Dragonball out of his hand as she screeched. "I warned you, didn't I?!? NO BLOWING THINGS UP!!! You could have destroyed that poor town!!!"

"How did you know?!?" he was too stupefied to even deny the charge.

She held up one of the handheld radios they had all carried. "I heard it, Vegeta."

Vegeta threw his hands up in the air. "Oh, for the love of Kami, woman! I put the fires out!"

Bulma wheeled on her mate, eyes blazing with unholy flames; the glare she gave him was probably capable of killing small animals. It was one of those Looks that would have made braver, stronger men than Vegeta quail-if such men were to be found. "Vegeta, you made them WORSE!"

He couldn't resist. He tried, he truly did, but he could not resist. The opportunity was just too great. It was dancing around in front of him naked, wearing a sign that said I'M HERE! Vegeta put one hand on Bulma's shoulder, leaned forward, and smirking, replied, "Worse…or better?"

o

o

In the midst of all this excitement were three very bored children.

Gohan was staring off into space, waiting for them to come back and make the wish.

Trunks was studying the wall, wondering if his dad had found the Dragonball yet.

Goten was looking at a bug.

In an attempt to distract themselves further, they decided to watch some television. However, they quickly realized that TV wasn't going to do much for them in this situation. After a while, Gohan jumped up and pointed at the screen in confused exasperation.

"I don't understand it!" he shouted angrily, his pointing hand shaking furiously with the force of his voice. "I don't understand these American cartoons! What is it with the sponge…and squarepants?!?"

Trunks shrugged.

Goten cracked up as Patrick dropped his rock-home on his own head again.

Gohan sighed and shook his head. How was it possible that they were related?!?

"Let's do something!" Trunks declared suddenly.

"What should we do?" Goten asked innocently.

Trunks shrugged again. "I don't know. I thought up the idea of doing something, now you guys think of something to do." He waited expectantly.

Gohan rolled his eyes. "Why does it not surprise me that you can't think of something to do?"

One lavender eyebrow arched. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Gohan leaned in and spoke in his very best 'talking to confused children' voice. "Let me spell it out for you. I'm insulting your intelligence. That means I'm saying something bad about you. Did I use small enough words?" For some reason, he was feeling contrary today.

"Oh, you're on!" Trunks jumped to his feet. "That's what we'll do! We'll have a contest! We'll see who the Best of the Boys is! You're going down, Son Gohan!"

"What would you like written on your tombstone?" Gohan asked, cracking his knuckes. This sounded like it would be a lot of fun!

Goten laughed as Squidward got hit in the face with a Krabby Patty.

o

o

"Okay, first is the test of Sneakiness!" Gohan announced. "Go into the office, distract Bulma somehow, and swipe something from the room without her seeing. We'll time to see who can do it fastest, and who can get the best item. Trunks, you volunteered to go first."

The lavender-haired chibi nodded, and disappeared into his mother's lab. His voice drifted back through the slightly-open door a moment later. "Have they got the last Dragonballs yet? Man…they need to hurry…" A moment later, Trunks reemerged. He pulled one hand from behind his back to reveal the alarm clock from a table in the room.

Gohan took his turn next. He slipped in, and entered a conversation with Bulma as well. After a slightly shorter moment, he came out holding a paperweight, taken right from the desk itself. He grinned triumphantly and waved it in Trunks' face. At the moment, Gohan was in the lead, and the only one who hadn't gone yet was Goten.

Needless to say, Gohan felt preeeeeety confident.

Goten walked in casually. "Hey, Bulma."

"Hello, Goten. Are you hear to steal something from me too?" she asked in mild annoyance, not taking her eyes from her computer; her fingers were clicking away on the keyboard. "Gohan and Trunks don't seem to notice that I saw them taking my stuff. What's the deal?"

"Oh, it's a contest. They're supposed to swipe something without you seeing it," Goten explained. "They're having a contest to see who's the best. It's kinda stupid, isn't it?"

"Honestly, those two," Bulma rolled her eyes. "I can't wait until the last Dragonball is collected and we can get this all back to normal. Maybe Gohan will start acting like himself again."

"Maybe," Goten agreed. "Well, I'll let you get back to work. But…can I have a hug?" And he turned on the puppy dog eyes. Frieza himself would have been powerless before the power of those eyes. It was more potent then Super Saiyan. And Bulma proved that she was not immune, and swept the child up into a quick embrace before patting him on the head and turning back to her computer.

Goten skipped out of the room, where Goten and Trunks were waiting semi-patiently.

"Well?" Trunks demanded.

"She saw both you guys take stuff," Goten reported.

"Crap…" Gohan stomped his foot in anger.

"So you guys both lose, I guess. Oh yeah!" Goten produced a small leather wallet with flowers embroidered on it. "Here's her wallet. I swiped it when she hugged me. I'm hungry!" He smiled cheerily and headed down the hallway towards the kitchen.

Gohan and Trunks stared blankly after him. "That did NOT just happen…"

**The Sneakiness Test.** Winner: _Goten_

o

o

"And now for the Intelligence Test!" Trunks proclaimed.

In order to properly administer the test, they had grabbed Bulma (after returning her things and apologizing profusely) and asked her to help. She had agreed to monitor and time the three children while they worked at the object of the test-the SATS.

"You have thirty minutes to complete each section of the test," Bulma intoned, reading from the test booklet. "Once you have completed a section of the test, you may go back and check over your answers. You may not go on, and you may not go back to a previous section of the test. When the instructor says stop, please set your pencils down immediately. Do you understand?"

She looked up. Gohan was pretending to listen-her trained mother's eye knew the feigned listening position when it saw it. Trunks had his feet kicked up on the desk. Goten was sticking his pencil up his nose. In short, they weren't paying a whit of attention.

"Are you ready?" she asked. They nodded. "Begin!"

The three children went to work. Gohan was breezing through it. Trunks would work for a while, study the question booklet, then frantically erase and remark. Much more of that, and he would probably rub right through the answer sheet. At one point, he nonchalantly leaned over and tried to peek at Gohan's sheet, but Gohan noticed almost immediately and covered up his paper with his arm. Goten, meanwhile, was barely looking at the question booklet, though his pencil moved neatly over the bubble sheet.

After what seemed like eons to Bulma, but mere minutes to them, Bulma signalled that time was up. Once all the sections of the test were completed, Bulma gathered their answer sheets, chuckling inwardly as her son raced to fill in the last answers.

"Now we'll run them through this computer," the blue-haired genius said cheerfully, gesturing to the contraption beside her. It looked more like a jumble of wires and cords attached to a box with lots and lots of pretty blinky lights on it than anything else, but if Bulma said it was a computer, than by God, it was a computer! "And we'll find out what your scores are. Whoever gets the highest score wins the contest!" She looked down at the three papers in her hands. "Let's start with Trunks'!"

The lavender-haired chibi looked faintly pained as she fed the paper through one end. The computer blinked and dinged and some other fine examples of onomotopeia before a number finally popped up, glowing brightly in a little window in the middle of the box.

_40._

Trunks visibly withdrew into himself as his mother bestowed upon him the most withering of Looks. The kind of Look that would take the paint off a building at five hundred yards. The kind of Look that actually leaves a hole where it pierces. The kind of Look capable of killing small animals.

"Now, Gohan's," the genius' voice was decidedly crisper at her son's failure.

Again, the machine beeped.

_32._

"HA!" Trunks shouted triumphantly, thrusting one fist victoriously into the air. He subdued immediately, though, under Gohan's Glare-of-Death (patent pending) and Bulma's Look-of-DOOM (patent already secured and effective). He suddenly realized he had the almost uncontrollable urge to go hide under the bed. In Germany. Far away.

"And now, Goten's test," Bulma sighed, looking at the last child. Goten seemed inordinately fascinated by the pretty blinky lights on the side of the computer, and apparently wasn't even listening. Shrugging, she fed the test paper through. Again, the machine whirred and clanked and…meh, you get the idea. It made a bunch of noise.

And the number came up.

"What?!?" Trunks yelped.

"What?!?" Gohan squeaked.

"What?!?" Bulma gasped.

"HA!" Goten shouted.

_3,389._

Everyone stared blankly, save for Goten—who was doing the Funky Chicken as a victory dance.

Bulma blinked. "Well, I'll be darned."

**The Intelligence Test. **Winner: _Goten_

o

o

"Okay, so this is an easy one!" Gohan explained. "The first one to annoy Mr. Piccolo wins! Hell, I'll even go first. Let's do it!" Trunks nodded. Goten was whimpering with his hands over his ears because Big Brother had said a bad word.

Gohan floated up to Piccolo's side. Piccolo was meditating in front of his favorite waterfall—just like he always did. It was one thing about Piccolo that most of them liked: it was never hard to find the guy.

"Hey, Mr. Piccolo!" Gohan chirped.

One Namekian eye opened and rolled over to look at the young speaker. "What do you want?"

"I got some jokes for you!" Gohan trilled, causing Piccolo to almost wince in pain at the pitch.

"Gohan…" Piccolo's tone was steeped in warning.

"Why did the chicken cross the road?" Gohan took a deep breath and said all of the next jokes in one long, fast rush. "To get to the other side! Three guys walk into a bar—bet that hurt! How many Saiyans does it take to form a mating circle? Only one, but he has to be really flexible!"

The words of aggravation died on Piccolo's tongue at that last, and he looked at Gohan questioningly. The child shrugged. "I heard it from Vegeta."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."

"Soooo…how many baritones does it take to change a lightbulb?"

"KNOCK IT OFF!" Piccolo barked, sending Gohan back a few feet.

The chibi looked at him with wide eyes, and for a long moment, the Namekian almost felt guilty. That is, he did until Gohan perked up and said, "Thank you, Mr. Piccolo!" And he turned and flew off, leaving Piccolo to wonder exactly what had happened.

Gohan flew up and tagged Trunks' hand. "You're up!"

Trunks zipped over and waited until Piccolo acknowledged his presence. "Now what do you want?" the Namek growled, a bit wary. Why were the children bothering him right now?

Trunks took a deep breath, and went into his own repetoire. "This is the song that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends, some people started singing it, not knowing what it was, and they'll continue singing it forever just because this is the song that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends…"

To Piccolo's credit, he made it through a full two renditions before he snapped and shot his eyes lasers in the child's general direction. Trunks dodged with a little squeal, and shot away, in the same direction Gohan had gone. Piccolo muttered a few colorful Namekian curses under his breath and went back to his meditation. He had the sinking feeling that he would be interrupted again.

Sure enough, he was right.

"Mr. Piccolo!"

Piccolo glared as Goten approached. He was getting heartily tired of this persistant annoyance, and wished desperately that he could punt them through a wall with a clean conscience. But Gohan might get angry with him, and that just wouldn't do. So, with a sigh, he asked gruffly, "What do you want?"

Goten tilted his head to one side, like he was sizing Piccolo up for something. He floated a little closer, his expression…well, it was as thoughtful as a seven-year-old's could be. He moved even a bit nearer, and then smiled. "Hey, Mr. Piccolo?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you hear me now? Good! Can you hear me now? Good! Can you hear me now? Go—"

_ZOOM!_

There was nearly a sonic boom as Piccolo zipped away, screaming.

Goten pouted. "He didn't let me finish!"

**The Annoying Test. **Winner: _Goten_

o

o

And the games continued for the rest of the day as they waited for the last Dragonballs to be gathered. The tests went on relentlessly, with the competition as fierce as they come. And the results were something no one could have predicted.

**The Singing Test. **Winner: _Goten_

He was the only one who didn't shatter anything made of glass in the room or kill any dogs.

**The Painting Test. **Winner: _Goten_

Gohan painted something that actually looked vaguely like Piccolo. Trunks painted what he called 'Stick Person in a Stick Forest.' Goten then proudly displayed his work, which he had titled _Shenron and the Four Dragonballs Amidst Flowers_. And it was.

**The Macarena Test. **Winner: _Goten_

He managed to make it through thirty straight rounds of the dance. Gohan and Trunks, sadly, were left writhing on the floor in utmost agony after the first five or six times. And even then, they were subjected to further irritation as Goten continued to enjoy himself. He only stopped when Piccolo, who had taken refuge in the Capsule Corporation gardens (hiding ride under the nose of the enemy, as it were), once again cracked, dove in through the window, and blew up the stereo.

**The Eating Test**

I really don't need to tell you this one, do I? Let's just say Bulma needed to do some major grocery shopping in the very near future.

o

o

As the last Dragonball was placed beside its six brothers, there was an audible sigh of relief. For more reason than one. First, it meant that this adventure in renewed childhood was almost over. And secondly, it meant that there were actually people around now who were capable of making Goten stop doing the damn Macarena.

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Gohan sighed and stretched out in bed. There was a lot of extra legroom, given that he was still so short! But that would change very soon. His last night as a chibified version of himself. It would all be over soon. Four months of fun, games, trouble, and pranks were about to come to an end.

Tomorrow.

They would make the wish tomorrow.

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**AN: **Two chapters left, and they're both fairly short. :sigh: Hard to believe it's almost over. But in a way, I'm glad…'cept I have no inspiration for any longer DBZ works, save for the OVA. IDEAS, SUGGESTIONS, AND REQUESTS ARE ACCEPTED AND SOMETIMES EVEN USED!!!

Oh, oh, oh, before I forget—IT'S POSTED! **The first chapter of A Very Chibi Christmas is up and running! FEEL FREE TO CHECK IT OUT!!!!** No promises on when Chapter Two goes up. Sorry, guys. I'll work on it, I promise. Eventually. I'm back at school, so my time is going to become very valuable. I'll keep writing—just not as often as I posted this summer.

So keep your eyes peeled. The last couple chapters of this fic should be up shortly. Thanks!


	33. The Second Wish

**AN:** Second to the last chapter. Wow…it's almost over. Well, here we go! Things are going back to normal! Whoop dee doooo!!! I don't own DBZ. Just my little story here. Blah.

Oh yeah! **Goten's Girl12, **I'm glad you liked the way I handled your idea. It was a wonderful thought, and it was fun to write. But it's not that I don't _want_ to write anymore DBZ, it's just I don't have any really good ideas for fics right now. I'll take suggestions or requests, though! Bring 'em on!

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**Chapter Thirty-Four—The Second Wish**

The group gathered on the beach of Master Roshi's island. The Kame House stood in the background. The waves lapped gently against the sandy shore, creating a nice, relaxed environment. Unfortunately, with Vegeta around, peace was all too often short-lived.

"BRAT, GET THAT DAMN THING OUT OF MY FACE OR I SWEAR TO KAMI YOU'LL REGRET IT!!!!" See, I told you so. The 'thing' in question was a fish that Trunks had conveniently plucked from the water and was waving in front of Vegeta's nose, demanding that his father look at it.

Everyone else sighed good-naturedly at the all-too-common occurrence—Vegeta getting pissed off, that is. But they quickly refocused their attentions on Gohan, who was hopping anxiously from one foot to the other in anticipation of what was to come. It was almost over.

Having finally brushed his son aside (and into a tree), Vegeta smirked at the hyper chibi. "Hmph, so you're finally getting back to normal. That means no more trouble out of you, brat."

Gohan nodded. _That's what you think, Veggie Head. _His attention was then thwarted as he realized that, once again, Marron was making calf-eyes at him, and Krillen was watching him warily. He gulped, and took a few discrete steps away. They should make this wish now, he decided.

"Well, shall we get this show on the road?" Bulma asked, as though reading his thoughts.. Just behind her, Videl was doing an odd little dance that consisted of fidgeting constantly and being incapable of sitting still. She was extremely jumpy. Why, was anyone's guess…

The Dragonballs were spread in a circle on the ground, and Bulma stood beside them with her hands outstretched over them. They were glowing, pulsating to some unknown rhythm only they could hear—which would make a little more sense if the Dragonballs had ears, but oh well. "Shenron, come forth and grant my wish!"

The Dragonballs exploded with light, and everyone shielded their eyes against it. The formidable form of the Eternal Dragon flared into the sky. "YOU HAVE SUMMONED ME. WHAT IS YOUR WISH? CHOOSE CAREFULLY, FOR IT WILL COME TRUE."

Bulma looked up impassively at the ferocious sight, and called out the wish. "I wish that Son Gohan was back to his normal, eighteen-year-old self, before Goten made the other wish!"

Shenron's eyes began to glow as he set about fulfilling the wish. And a light surrounded the subject of the wish. Pain stabbed through Gohan's back, quite similar to the night when he attended the prom, or when his tail had grown back. It started in his lower back before branching out into every part of his body; he could feel his pulse throbbing in his temples, desperately painful. Just like before. Stars danced in front of his eyes as the pain gave way to a paralyzing numbness, and he was sure he was going to fall.

Then, just as it had four months ago, it vanished. He felt warm, and there was a mere ache to acknowledge that anything had changed at all. He closed his eyes against the light, and waited until he could no longer see it faintly through his eyelids.

As the light faded, everyone dropped their arms away from their eyes to see what had happened.

Where the small child had been only seconds before, a young man now stood. Tall, slender, wearing a blue gi, and grinning from ear to ear. He looked down at his hands—larger, adult hands. "It worked!" Gohan shouted, overjoyed.

That was about all he had time for before he was attacked by his family and friends. Hugs and high-fives abounded. Goten clambored up onto his shoulders and perched there, sharing his neck with Videl, who had grabbed on and wasn't letting go. ChiChi was alternating between squealing over how cute it was and sobbing that he was going to have to study twice as hard to get caught up—completely oblivious to the fact that he'd gotten everything done already.

Finally, he extracted himself from the crowd of congratulators, and plucked Goten off of him and set the child back on the sand. Videl reluctantly let go, and looked up at him with a smile. "Well, how does it feel to be you again?"

"Never felt better in my life!" he declared, stretching his blessedly long arms over his head. Suddenly, a thoughtful expression crossed Gohan's face. He seemed to be going over something in his head, almost arguing with himself. Then the look changed to one of resolution. "Hey, Videl…"

She smiled at him. "What?"

Without another word he scooped her up—

—and very unceremoniously tossed her into the ocean just off the shoreline of Master Roshi's island. She made a nice splash, and resurfaced almost instantly, as the water wasn't terribly deep at that particular spot.

When she came back up, she immediately started sputtering and coughing up the water that she had inadvertantly swallowed in her unexpected plunge. With one hand, she reached up and roughly pushed her now-soaked bangs out of her eyes. Once she had regained some sort of steadiness, she glared murder up at the grinning teenager on the shoreline.

"Son Gohan," she said his name, and it sounded like a death knell. "You're a dead man."

"Key word. Man," he repeated, grin growing even wider. "Ya know what else?"

She continued to glare.

The second surprise came then. With Saiyan speed, he darted over and scooped up Goten and Trunks, both of whom had been laughing their heads off at Videl's misfortune. With the two chibis in tow, Gohan took a running leap. "BONZAI!"

With a slightly larger splash, Gohan landed in the ocean, right beside Videl. Goten and Trunks went down with him, though their entrance into the water was somewhat more controlled.

The three boys resurfaced immediately, all now soaked. Goten and Trunks were coughing and yelling. Trunks accidentally let loose a few words that made his father beam with pride, and his mother promise punishment upon their return home. Gohan was still grinning like an idiot. Or like his father. Either was quite accurate.

"Woo! This is fun!" Gohan started splashing everyone.

Now, Goten and Trunks just couldn't let that go by without retaliation. So they…well, retaliated. The Splash War commenced, though Gohan's attention was divided between further soaking his younger (and now smaller) brother and younger (and now smaller) brother's best friend, and swimming away from Videl, who wanted payback for getting soaked.

At one point while Gohan was on the run from his vengeful girlfriend, Goten looked up, happened to glance towards the beach, and saw something horrifying. It was the most terrifying sight of his young life. Even worse than the time Bulma had tried to make Jell-O, and it had ended up looking back at him when he tried to eat it.

The Racoon of Death was sitting on the shore, watching him. (AN: Ha! I brought him back just for this chapter!) [readers feel the urge to flame the author relentlessly]

As Goten watched in horror, the racoon jumped at him. With its super Racoon Powers of Evil, it looked like it might actually make it to where Goten was swimming. But when it was mere feet away, a giant fish jumped out of the water and swallowed the racoon whole before diving back under the surface, where it promptly swam away.

Goten looked up towards the sky and waved. "Thank you!"

To his surprise, a soft female voice actually replied cheerily in his head. _"No sweat, sweetie."_

[coughBLATANTSELFINSERTIONcough] [readers flame the author and leave]

Meanwhile, back on the shore, ChiChi watched the splashing teens—well, Gohan was splashing, since Videl was holding his head under water and screaming something about sending him on a long vacation to see his father—and sighed happily. "Oh, I'm going to get my grandchildren!"

"NOT UNTIL THEY'RE MARRIED!"

The words tore through the air with the force of thunder, but no one really seemed to notice the return of the Voice of DOOM, save for ChiChi, who looked around in surprise.

She frowned. "I really wonder how I do that…"

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**AN:** Sorry, I just couldn't leave it without bringing the Voice of DOOM back one last time. And the Racoon of Death. And hell, I even did a brief, if blatant, self-insert! Whee!!

[sniff] [SOB] One chapter left. A comparatively short epilogue, just to wrap up this tale. I'm proud of the epilogue; I find it a fitting ending to this already screwed up tale. It's what I'd call a twist, and what others would call insanity. And it's already mostly written, so it should be up quite shortly.


	34. Epilogue

**AN: :sniff**: :SOB!: Well, all good things must come to an end eventually. And since this is ending too, I guess all mediocre things go along the same rule. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is the final chapter of "Once Upon a Chibi." Well, actually, this is more of an epilogue than a chapter. A little idea given to me in a review that I can't find. An idea that was just too damn good to pass up. So I did it!

I hope you like the way I ended my traumatic tale. I DON'T OWN DBZ!!!! But that's okay. My therapist says I'll get over it. But he knows nothing…hehe…nothing…fire…whoops, sorry 'bout that!

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**Epilogue**

It was hard to believe, but a year had passed.

One full year had gone by since that fateful day when Son Gohan had been wished back to his adult self. And it had actually been one year and four months since that even more fateful day when Son Goten had gathered the Dragonballs and made the wish that had turned Gohan into an eighteen year old in a seven year old's body. And it was difficult to believe that one year and two months had passed since the equally fateful night upon which Gohan had become a living Cinderella story, returned to his eighteen year old form for one night so that he could attend his prom with his current girlfriend, Videl. And now he was finally eighteen in both mind and body.

(AN: I think I just summed up my whole story in about five sentences…)

Gohan was quite happy to be back in his normal adult self, though he would never forget the days that he had been given to relive his lost childhood. At the beginning, when the wish had first been made, he had actually made plans to brutally murder his little brother the instant he was back to normal (making it look like an accident, of course), but now, looking back, he just couldn't. Goten had actually done a pretty awesome thing for him. Truthfully, he probably should thank the kid.

Videl was delighted to have him back to normal. He had gone back to school, pleading the illness story (and thankfully, no one questioned how he had recovered enough to attend the prom). He had resumed his role as the Great Saiyaman, and only yesterday had gotten to bust a few bank robbers with Videl at his side ("I shall right all wrongs! I shall fix all that is broken! I bring air freshner to where there is the stink of evil! I am the Great Saiyaman!").

Most of the old gang still teased Gohan about some of the more idiotic things he had done whilst in his chibified state. The little incident where Marron had kissed him was a particular favorite, right up there with the loud, screaming fight Marron and Videl had gotten into over him. And, of course, they brought up all of those delightfully brilliant pranks he, Goten, and Trunks had played on Vegeta every chance they got.

Oh, and Vegeta hadn't gotten off scot-free, either. Gohan had once again managed to get the proud Saiyan and put him in his place—again using the Gravity Room as the scene of the crime, catching Vegeta just as he was emerging from a training session; the reaction had been loud, obscene, and utterly, utterly delightful. It was absolutely amazing what one could do with a simple garden hose.

Poor Vegeta. The Order of the Prank was still alive and well.

But at the moment, Gohan wasn't thinking about playing pranks on Vegeta. His attention was focused entirely on digging through the rocks, until finally, he found his prize. A small orange sphere with three stars on it. It glowed when he picked it up, and he was sure that the other six of the set (each with a different number of stars on it, from one to seven) were doing the same.

"Gotcha," he chuckled, reaching over his shoulder to stick the final Dragonball in his bag. He took off into the air then, heading for a secluded place where he knew he could make his wish without being interrupted. He went back to the place where Piccolo had dropped him so long, to live alone in the wilderness for six months by himself.

The sand was warm under his feet, right through his shoes, but he ignored it and dumped the seven Dragonballs out onto the ground in a haphazard pile. They were glowing brightly, as though excited that he was going to make use of them and wish for something.

"Shenron, I summon you!" he called, holding his hands out over the spheres out of habit more than anything else. "Come forth, and grant my wishes!"

The now-familiar light shot into the sky, and the enormous, writhing form of Shenron, the Eternal Dragon, appeared. "YOU HAVE SUMMONED ME," Shenron boomed. "NAME YOUR FIRST WISH."

Gohan hesitated for a moment. Should he really do this? It wasn't really very nice, and there weren't really very many excuses he could make for doing this. After all, two wrongs didn't make a right…though two lefts did (or something like that). It was just petty revenge.

And revenge was sweet. Let the wrath of Hell—aka, his mother's Frying Pan-fall upon him. This was going to be extremely funny. And besides, it could always be fixed. In four months.

Smirking, Gohan called his wish up to the Eternal Dragon, looming in the sky.

Oh, payback was so very sweet.

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At the Son residence, Goten and Trunks were cheerfully playing with their action figures. It was yet another game of 'Videl and Saiyaman Save the City Because the Police are Helpless and Can't Do It Themselves,' the boys' favorite game.

Suddenly, Goten stiffened, and pressed both hands to his forehead. "Owwww…"

"Goten, what's wrong?" Trunks asked in a panic, but he got no answer.

Fire shot through Goten's head, piercing his temples. He recoiled as it spread, joining with a pain in his back to form one nice, big arc of pain. He saw pretty stars in front of his eyes—and he wished he could move so he could catch one, but his body suddenly went numb, and he fell forward.

Then, suddenly, it stopped. Flat-out, it was gone. And he sat up, shaking his head a little. He turned to Trunks to ask what had happened, but the words froze on his tongue when he saw the look on Trunks' face. It was horror and confusion melded together into a very odd expression.

"What? What's wrong?" Goten asked, then stopped. He was surprised at the timbre of his voice. Was he going through puberty early or something, because his voice had never been that deep before. And he felt so very strange, like he wasn't quite himself anymore.

He climbed to his feet—and nearly fell over. His center of gravity seemed to have shifted, and it was hard to keep his balance. Plus, everything looked a little different; he was looking at it from a different vantage point, higher up than he had a moment ago.

Scrambling frantically across the room (and managing to make it there without falling flat on his face), Goten looked in the mirror. But the face that looked back at him was not a seven year old's face. It was the face of someone older. A fairly handsome face, it was true, with dark hair and equally dark eyes. But that didn't take away from the fact that the face was older. Like…Gohan's age, maybe…

Realization hit like a ki blast to the head. Except it didn't hurt as much, and probably wouldn't result in severe injury or, more likely, death. Anyway…

Goten clapped a hand to each side of his face and screamed, Home Alone style.

"GOHAN!!!!!!!!"

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**AN:** Whew, and it's over! All over…after close to ninety thousand words (does anyone else think 's word counter is a little screwed up?), almost a hundred pages, and a year and a half, it's done. Man, I'm almost sorry to see this story end. It was actually a lot of fun to think up stuff for Gohan to do, and torture Vegeta, of course. But that's okay.

I'll [eventually] [hopefully] come up with something else eventually. My DBZ inspiration for anything other than one-shots has been severely waning. I've got **A Very Chibi Christmas** posted—part one of it, anyway. So I'll continue working on that.

If anyone has any brilliant ideas for fics, let me know. The once-plentiful spring of my creativity has run dry, leaving me with an unquenchable thirst— [readers attack Candyland for using a really bad metaphor and discipline her with bricks]

Well, that's it then. My long, rambling fic AND my long, rambling author's note. Heehee. I talk too much. Anyway, a very warm, very heartfelt THANK YOU to everyone who read, doubled **THANK YOU** for everyone who reviewed. I love you all!! Thanks for sticking through to the end. Until next time!

**THERE WILL NOT BE A SEQUEL TO THIS FIC. I AM LEAVING AN OPEN ENDING. IF SOMEONE ELSE REALLY WANTS TO TRY AND WRITE A SEQUEL PICKING UP WHERE I LEFT THIS OFF, THAT'S FINE. ASK FIRST, THOUGH! I'D WANT TO READ IT! I REPEAT, THIS IS THE END! NO MORE! FIN!**


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